


Found Family; Seeker Edition.

by RussianSunflower3



Series: If it's not found family I don't fragging want it [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Classic stupidity, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Seeker Trines, This is a trine positive fic!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-01-03 05:54:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 56,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21174506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianSunflower3/pseuds/RussianSunflower3
Summary: Living, fighting, and being together on a foreign planet was bound to make anyone - Autobot or Decepticon - either kill each other or collectively become a strange, dysfunctional family.Unexpectedly, the Decepticons fell into the latter category.  Expectantly, they were anextremelydysfunctional, crazy, and somewhat insane adopted-family-unit.The Seeker Command Trine, Megatron comes to realise, might just be the closest yetcraziestof them all.





	1. *Jenna Marbles voice* Beach!

“TC, think fast!” Stationed at the observational computer, currently on duty as security, Thundercracker does _not_, as Skywarp had shouted the split second he warped into the room, ‘think fast’. 

The ‘vop’ of Skywarp appearing had warned him something was incoming, but he had expected Skywarp to leisurely sling himself over his back, with blatant disrespect for anyone’s personal space.

He certainly wasn’t expecting something light, round and hollow to bounce off one of his wings. Which is exactly what he got.

“Skywarp.” He grits his denta to suppress the growl of exasperation, but his engines rumble in annoyance all the same. He can just _feel_ Skywarp bouncing on his pedes behind him, field radiating mischievous energy.

Mischievous, when paired with Skywarp, meant _trouble_.

Accepting his fate, Thundercracker glances once more over the monitors, making sure no-one is requesting the entrance of the Nemesis to be activated, before he swivels round to face Skywarp at an agonisingly slow pace.

Somehow, Thundercracker manages to make an expression that is both irritated, mildly curious, and _exhausted_.

“You like it, TC~?” 

“What is that, where did you get it, does Starscream know, and how do I dispose of it?” Whilst Thundercracker’s wings twitch as he fights back hiding his face in his servos, Skywarp grins like the giddy idiot he is, holding his prize aloft.

“A giant beach ball, stole it, not yet, and you don’t!” His wings ripple with pure joy and his field is _drenching_ the room with self-satisfied victory. Thundercracker can no longer resist dragging his servos down his face, engines rumbling in discontent. 

“_Please_ get rid of it before Megatron finds out and sends both of us to the scrapheap.”

“Ol’ Buckethead will never know! C’mon, TC, just go along with it for a bit?” There’s a whine to Skywarp’s vocaliser, and he widens his optics, grin morphing into a pleading, playful pout. Thundercracker peers out between his digits before covering his own optics and turning back round in the chair.

“No. _No_. You are not getting what you want this time, that face isn’t going to help, I’m not getting in scrap because of you again and- Slaggit, stop making that _fraggin’ face_!” Skywarp unhelpfully warps around the chair, making sure he’s face to face with Thundercracker the split second he stops swivelling.

“Pl_eeeeeaaaa_se, TC? Just one game! Just _one_ game!” Thundercracker peers through his digits again, and Skywarp puts on the most pitiful expression he can muster. A loud and weary vent escapes Thundercracker and Skywarp holds back a shout of success. The sound, reminiscent of a heavy sigh, means Skywarp has won his way.

His trine is soft. They usually give in to him at some point, as long as they aren’t together. When Starscream isn’t around, Thundercracker _always_ gives in. ‘The face’ ensures that.

“Fine. I’ll let you out so you can take it somewhere hidden. Ping me your location and I’ll join you after my shift.” 

“YES!” Skywarp ‘vops’ back over to his giant beach ball - seriously, that thing is _huge_ \- and grabs it with both arms. He grins in excitement as Thundercracker wearily twitches his affection back in his wings, typing in the code that activates the Nemesis’ pillar.

It’s not even fully extended before Skywarp warps into the lock, waving one arm at the camera with his beach ball by his pedes. The ridiculous thing reaches up to his _knee_, and Thundercracker huffs as he lifts a servo to the screen in response.

It’s stupid, because he knows Skywarp can’t see him, but the warmth thrumming through the trine bond reassures him that Skywarp _knows_. Probably because he’s seen Thundercracker do it to Starscream once, when he was pestering the blue seeker during a previous shift.

Curiousity and trepidation appear in the bond from Starscream, so perfectly mixed that Thundercracker can almost hear him sarcastically question if he wants to even know. Thundercracker’s response is a somewhat pained ‘no’. Skywarp’s response is a bright ‘yes!’.

Opening a commlink, Thundercracker risks Starscream’s wrath. He knows his trine leader is currently surveying potential strike areas with Megatron, Soundwave and the cassettes, which will have him in a bad mood anyways.

_::// Skywarp has somehow acquired a squishy plaything. \\\::_ Leaving the comms open, Thundercracker simply turns down the volume until Starscream has finished screeching curses in multiple languages. Earth’s English, standard Cybertronian, and common Vosnian are the only ones he recognises.

_::// What in the PIT does he think he’s doing?! He’s going to get us all slagged! \\\::_

_::// I believe he wants to ‘play’. We should probably grant him this before he gets bored and tries to repaint Megatron’s quarters with toxic waste. **Again**.\\\::_

On the other end of the line, Starscream hesitates in his response, glancing over to his leader who’s field already radiates with fury at lack of targets. If Skywarp was to be let loose now…

_::// Very well. We only have two more sites to survey then I’ll come back to base- \\\::_

His trine bond pings with a location from Skywarp, and Starscream takes a split second to proudly pinpoint it as somewhere far enough away from the Nemesis that they’ll be out of sight, out of mind.

_::// -and we can head off to Skywarp’s ridiculous location together. \\\::_

_::// Roger that. Fly high. \\\:: _

_::// On convections and updrafts. \\\:: _ The traditional Vosnian exchange marks the end of their conversation, and Starscream slams his comm shut before Megatron notices. He’s sure Soundwave already has, but the TiC won’t report them as long as Skywarp is kept safely away from the toxic waste… Again.

“Soundwave! Hone in those magnetic signals up ahead!” Megatron’s order prevents Soundwave from questioning anything, and Starscream has never been so thankful to hear of what he suspects is Autobot activity. 

“Nuclear plant; heavily guarded. Autobots present; 6 signatures identified.” A thunderous scowl paints Megatron’s features, and Starscream has to bite his glossa to stop himself remarking on how identical it is to his trinemate when they’re _trying_ to drag Thundercracker to the medbay. 

(They have a 20% success rate, and even then, Thundercracker can evade them if he can predict where Skywarp will warp.)

“Pit-slagged Autobots! How dare they interfere in my plans! Soundwave, mark this site to be investigated later. If Prime wants to protect it, we’re going to _plunder_ it.”

“Oh yes, Lord Megatron! What a _brilliant_ plan! Let’s just dive headfirst into Autobot lasers, shall we?!”

“Hold your glossa, Starscream. Did I, or did I not say _later_?” It may be rhetoric, but the tension gets under Starscream’s plating. He’s already irritated from their string of failures at investigating other strike sites, and now Megatron wants to get them all scrapped? 

The attempt to put Starscream in his place only makes his sarcasm more venomous.

“Well, now the Autobots are aware of our activity, I’m _sure_ they’ll just step aside! Oh, maybe they’ll roll out the welcome mat! Perhaps the fleshling tradition of offering us tea, rather than an onslaught of _gunfire and deactivation_!”

“Quiet, Starscream!” With a scoff-like sound from his engines, Starscream promptly distances himself from Megatron. Unfortunately, the roar of his jet engines seems to notify those below of their presence.

“Uh, Megatron? I don’t mean ta interrupt but…” Rumble is silenced with a furious glare, but Soundwave does not hesitate to speak.

“Missile; Incoming.” The Autobots below scramble into offensive position, ready to unleash their attack against the 4 decepticons, should they try to threaten the humans. Megatron’s faceplates deepen their scowl.

“Return to base, _for now_. Starscream, organise an investigation team for in 7 earth days. That should be long enough for the Autobots to drop their guard.” Dodging the missiles with grace, Starscream indulges in a little of Skywarp’s joy coming through the trine bond, calming him down.

“Yes, Megatron.” The flight back to base seems to go much quicker than their journey out, probably because Starscream has something to look forwards to. He’s even more grateful when they get back and Thundercracker has activated the Nemesis entrance before Megatron has to crankily demand for it.

Other, less vigilant soldiers would wait for a comm request, which would only further Megatron’s frustration. 

As soon as they’re inside the base, Starscream breaks away from Megatron and Soundwave, heading to the observation tower. The doors open, and Thundercracker doesn’t even turn in his seat as he flicks his wings in greeting.

“How long until your shift is over?”

“Just 3 kliks. You should head out. Skywarp is getting impatient.” Starscream lightly brushes his knuckles over a blue wing, feeling it flicker happily in response. Seekers back struts tended to tense up when they were on any duty involving a desk. It made for uncomfortable wings and rigid wiring. 

Skywarp usually avoided such strain by constantly moving around during his shifts. Starscream had created a small sensor that he could keep in his subspace, one with magnets calibrated specifically to him that helped realign anything the strain had affected. Thundercracker, as diligently immovable as he was, and without the scientific knowledge to build a sensor calibrated to himself, did not have the luxury.

“See to it that you stretch before you fly. I am _not_ recovering your aft from the ocean again.” His words might be strict, but Thundercracker can hear the playfulness behind it, and feel Starscream’s concern through the trine bond.

“Even though it was satisfying to watch other bots faceplates when the salt grinded oh-so-quietly in our joints?” Starscream swats the back of his helm, but follows it by moving a servo to the backplates, pressing a digit in against far too strained struts.

“That part, I enjoyed. Particularly watching Megatron lose his temper as I kept shuffling when he was trying to lecture us~.” Thundercracker snorts a laugh.

“You’re going to get yourself slagged one day, Star.” 

“Oh, _please_. If our dear, mighty leader hasn’t sent me to the pit yet, he’s never going to. He’s soft.”

“Says the one fixing my struts for me.” Starscream pauses to swat his trinemates helm again, but his digits return to their work, gentle as ever when dealing with sensitive wings. He’s pleased to see the flutter of Thundercracker’s wings that mark him as grateful, relieved, and comfortable.

“Would you prefer to overstrain them and get dragged to Hook?” Those blue wings hitch up as high as possible and Starscream hisses under a vent as the cable beneath his digits tightens up to the point where it could have potentially snapped.

“Be careful, you glitchhead! You really _will_ be going to Hook if you keep treating your struts like elastic!” The tension doesn’t release, Thundercracker’s wings remaining high and slightly trembling, until Starscream runs a reassuring hand along the top edge of them. 

Skywarp’s concern pulses over the trine bond, questioning the cold dread he could feel seeping into it. Pouring a mix of irritation and solace into their silent communication, Starscream manages to calm both his wingmates at the same time, feeling Skywarp urging them to join him, and Thundercracker’s wings lowering.

Exactly three kliks after Starscream had first entered, a little light on the dashboard goes off, alerting of a shift change. Thundercracker activates the entrance one more time - for Dirge, Ramjet, and Thrust returning from patrol - then stands from the chair.

Starscream leads the way, though he pauses in the doorway as he watches Thundercracker fill in the activity log, placing it back in a drawer below the dashboard for the next mech on shift. The Reflector triplets enter to take their place, sharing a polite nod with the blue seeker.

Starscream, of course, rolls his optics so hard they almost disconnect.

“Hurry _up_, Thundercracker!” 

“Reflector, could you open the hatch once we get there? Mark it down as recreational in the log book.”

“Consider it done.” Following after his impatient trineleader, Thundercracker knows Skywarp is probably even _more_ impatient. He’ll start getting into trouble soon, if he isn’t entertained.

“And _where_ do you think you’re going?” A black servo clamps down on Starscream’s shoulder, almost dragging him off balance. Starscream glares back at Megatron, aware of Soundwave lurking further down the corridor. As Thundercracker slows to a halt before he can collide with Starscream, he begs him to _behave_ over the trine bond.

Starscream, being himself, does not listen.

“What does it matter to you, Megatron? Afraid I’ll take the leadership position from behind your back?!” Megatron’s optics flash with a warning of danger. Before this can get violent, Thundercracker calmly comms their intended coordinates to the the Decepticon leader.

“We need to fly with Skywarp. He’s growing bored and… Mischievous.” The servo clamped on Starscream’s shoulder eases to a resting hand, one that Starscream bitterly shrugs off. Truthfully, he’s settled into this routine too much to actually attempt mutiny, but he has a reputation to uphold. No matter how much Megatron seems to be becoming a _somewhat_ competent leader.

“Considering the alternative… I will allow it.” 

“Thank you, Lord Megatron.” Thundercracker dips his helm in respect, quickly ushering along a still-glowering Starscream. Their quiet hisses and rumbles can still be heard by Megatron until the duo have passed through the airlock into the exit tower.

Megatron vents a heavy sigh, running a hand over his faceplates. He can feel amusement in Soundwave’s field, which is strange since the mech usually reels his field in.

“Query; Toxic waste not to Megatron’s tastes?” Megatron gives a shove to Soundwave’s shoulder, not entirely unfriendly, pretending like the scowl on his face isn’t hiding a content chuckle at Soundwave’s cheeky ‘query’.

“After last time, my taste for toxic waste has diminished.” There’s a pause of comfortable silence between them before Megatron claps a hand on Soundwave’s shoulder, walking past to go and check the roster in his own quarters.

“Send Lazerbeak after them. Starscream may have regained my trust after that de-frag fixed his misaligned circuits, but the three of them together may still cause trouble.”

“Lazerbeak; follow seekers.” The cassette ejects from Soundwave and caws her agreement as she soars around the corner in chase of Starscream and Thundercracker. Transforming back into cassette form, she just manages to make it through the closing doors and slot herself into a gap in the framework.

Neither of the seekers notice, too busy trying to keep Skywarp where he was, prevent him from causing trouble, and reassure him they were on the way.

“Enlighten me as to _where_ he got this… ‘giant beach ball’, and _**why**_.”

“Already told you, Star. He says he stole it, and as for why… Pit knows, ‘Warp doesn’t care about reason and logic.”

“... True, true. Let’s just hope he doesn’t get too attached to it. It’ll be harder to hide a ‘beach ball’ than even that stupid cactus he insists on keeping as a pet.”

“Considering it’s gone from 2 meters to 4 meters whilst under his care, I’d say he’s doing pretty good.”

“Oh, shut up, Thundercracker. I know _you’ve_ been taking care of it for the last meta-cycle.” Starscream lightly shoves at his wingmates shoulder, jostling him teasingly whilst Thundercracker steps away from him, averting his faceplates as they darken with increased energon flow, blushing.

“M’not.”

“You water it specifically with freshwater from the nearest river. You wielded together a _pot_ for it from scrap metal. You even _named_ the blasted thing!” Gawking, Thundercracker’s vocaliser produces small bursts of static before he can compute his response.

“Warp likes to think he’s the one keeping Needlestorm alive, alright!”

(It takes Lazerbeak everything she has not to squawk her laughter whilst she records, only imagining how Soundwave and Megatron are going to react hearing _this_ play back.)

Starscream raises one optic bridge as if to ask Thundercracker if he’s even hearing himself right now. Considering the blue seeker turns his back to Starscream and flicks a couple of insults through his wings, shutting off his vocaliser, Starscream knows he’s practically _offlining_ from embarrassment. The trine leader rolls his optics.

Needlestorm, honestly.

When the hatch of the Nemesis opens and wonderful sky stretches ahead of them, Starscream immediately transforms and jets off. The sensation of soaring winds, cool breezes, and refreshing freedom make his spark feel lighter. His joy thrums through the trine bond, his wingmates responding the same.

Being cooped up underwater made them all a little claustrophobic. The great expanse of Earth’s open skies was their liberation, the reason they hadn’t all collapsed into irreversible stasis yet. A seeker without his flight was a mech doomed.

Skywarp can feel them coming closer, his side of the trinebond pulsating with merry delight. It’s enough to bring Thundercracker out of his embarrassed sulk, and cause Starscream to do a couple of playful stunts. 

“Screamer!!! TC!!!” Skywarp _rockets_ between them, gigantic beach ball bouncing from wing to wing as he sways, and Starscream’s processor almost shorts out.

It really is huge! It’s giant! It’s- It’s-!!! It’s perfectly proportioned for them, and Starscream can’t help but wonder what madness the squishies have to make things that are far too big for their puny, fleshy frames.

“Where in _Unicron_ did you find such a thing, Skywarp?!” Circling back around, expertly bouncing the ball from wing to wing as he falls in line with his trine, Skywarp’s engines roar with pride.

“Stole it!”

“From where?”

“Remember the raid we did on the Walney wind farm? I kinda, maybe, sorta… Stopped by the nearest seaside town on the way back for some therapeutic destruction.” Starscream is silent for a long klik, and the longer he doesn’t screech at Skywarp, the harder it gets for his trinemates to hold back their amusement. 

Before Thundercracker can ask if his processer has stopped working though, Starscream _erupts_.

“**I ORDERED YOU BACK TO BASE. I - I _ORDERED_ YOU BACK TO BASE!!!** You pit-slagged, glitchheaded, bot fraggin’ _son of a Cessna_!!! What kind of microchip moron goes back to shore, where the Autobots were _waiting_ to slag us, to get a _**beach ball**_?!?! WHAT IS YOUR MALFUNCTION, SKYWARP?!”

“Oooh, ‘Screamer’s getting creative. I’m in trouble, aren’t I, TC?”

“Yea.” Displeased by their nonchalance, Starscream slips into his habit of swearing, insulting, and cursing in multiple languages. He knows his trinemates don’t understand most of them - his database has 7211 universal languages, Skywarp’s consists of 400, and Thundercracker has just 3.

Eventually though, Skywarp tires of Starscream’s rant and off-putting attitude.

“Oh, shove it up your afterburner.” Spinning around in flight, Skywarp _launches_ the beach ball at his trine leader, revelling in the solid ‘THUD’ it makes against Starscream’s cockpit before he catches it as it bounces back. 

Starscream goes silent, his fury boiling through the trinebond like a simmering volcano.

“Skywarp.”

“Yeeeees~?”

“I _dare_ you to do that again.” Despite feeling Thundercracker’s plea for him to absolutely not do that again, Skywarp only speeds up in flight, intending to add more impact behind his throw.

“Okay!” 

“Skywarp, no!” Thundercracker moves to intervene, bouncing the ball back towards Skywarp off his wings, but the teleporter only whoops a laugh and sends it straight back towards Starscream.

Starscream increases his speed, as fast as he can, and impacts the ball with enough force to turn it into a projectile.

“Ha! Take that, ‘Warp!” With the ball incoming at missile speed and with scarily accurate aim, Skywarp opts not to catch this one, and instead warps out of the way. The ball, being a simple beach ball, slows down and starts to fall when it doesn’t hit anything.

Warping to below them, Skywarp transforms back to robot form, catches the ball in his arms, and then boots it back upwards like he’s seen squishies on television do with ‘footballs’. Except Skywarp’s goal was not a net on a grassy field, but his trine.

“Caaaaatch!!!” For the next few breems, they continue playing like this, bouncing the ball back and forth between each other as they fly in the air. Evening clouds start gathering, turning pinkish-orange as the sun lowers.

Never one to turn down an opportunity, Starscream jets underneath the ball, twisting in midair so his thrusters push the ball even further up, into the clouds above them. Thundercracker doesn’t hesitate, rocketing after the beach ball and right into the clouds.

He, like Skywarp, transforms into his robot form, but it’s not to catch the ball. Instead, he spreads his arms out along his wings, taking in a deep vent, and shuts off his optics. For a moment, nothing exists but the condensation clinging to his frame, the static electricity in the cloud, and the calming silence that comes from being wrapped in weather like this.

A grin appears on his faceplates, and at the same time as he turns his optics on and reaches one servo out to catch the ball, he releases a sonic boom that’s only enhanced by the cloud. Instantly, water is released from the cloud in an absolute _downpour_, and he booms a laugh as he can hear his trinemates screeching at him, with their surprise exploding over the trinebond.

They don’t let him hide in the cloud for long, Starscream looping around it to wrap the condensation together tightly in hopes of exposing his trinemate, and Skywarp warping around in rough guesses of where Thundercracker could be, lighting the cloud up with purple flashes that get brighter as the cloud gets smaller.

“Come out, TC! We just wanna get you back for that!” Snickering, Thundercracker holds the beach ball in waiting, aimed at where he thinks Skywarp will appear next. As if he had known the future, Skywarp warps straight into the area he’d picked out - having felt the ions destabilizing as the air always does around Skywarp’s target - and Thundercracker knocks the ball over to him in a gesture reminiscent of a volleyball spike.

It bounces off Skywarp’s helm, but he’s quick to backflip in the air and catch it, grinning upside down at Thundercracker.

“Ooooh, you’re gonna pay for that~! Screamer, I found ‘im!”

“Oh, I’m aware of that.” Blue arms loop around his waist, and Thundercracker angles his helm back to catch Starscream’s sly grin, before the trineleader cuts his engines. 

Freefall, Thundercracker finds, is absolutely _terrifying_.

“Star! Starscream! Switch your engines back on, _switch your engines back on_!!! I can’t fly both of us! _Starscream!!!_” Cackling, Starscream lets them drop until the ground is within view, and just when Thundercracker thinks maybe - just maybe - his trineleader may have finally lost it and his circuits had corroded, there’s a soft ‘vop’ behind them, before the unsettling sensation of being warped. 

Back up in the air, just below the remains of the cloud he had made rain down on them, Thundercracker is released from Starscream’s hold. He glares at Starscream, irritation buzzing over the trinebond, but the response is only cheeky playfulness from his wingmates and his optics widen.

“You two planned this...” Skywarp slings an arm over Starscream’s shoulder, both of them looking incredibly proud of themselves.

“Yup! As soon as you made it rain on us!”

“Consider this your ‘just desserts’, Thundercracker~.” Rolling his optics, Thundercracker shoves at them gently, enough to get his point across that they certainly proved their revenge. Then, he notices something.

“Skywarp, where’s your ball?” The teleporter looks around, spark sinking as he realises his ball is nowhere to be seen. His sorrow echoes across the trinebond as he shrinks in on himself. Starscream brushes a servo over his wing comfortingly.

“Don’t worry, we’ll find it.” Skywarp offers a small smile of gratitude, but all three of them know that he won’t shake off this sadness until he’s either had a full recharge, or they find the ball that was surprisingly fun to play with.

Maybe squishies weren’t so maddened after all, Starscream considered.

Thundercracker glances towards the horizon, optics narrowing in the golden light as the the sun meets the ocean.

“Come on, it’ll be harder to find in the dark.” Before they can transform into jet form and start searching though, they tense up. Something is approaching. All three of them ready their weapons in waiting, focused on where the blip on their visors is travelling…

And then there’s a familiar squawk as something emerges from the evening clouds.

“... Lazerbeak?”

“What are you-? Is Megatron _spying_ on us?!”

“MY BEACH BALL!” 

Clearly, the three of them have different priorities. Skywarp dashes forwards to take the beach ball from where Lazerbeak has it balanced on her wings, whilst Thundercracker tries to calm Starscream down from screeching about_ “He knows those circuits in my personality component were fixed, I’m not glitched anymore, why is he **spying**-!?”_

Lazerbeak caws as she does a loop-de-loop. Skywarp looks at her. Looks at the beach ball in hands. Looks back to the casseticon. And grins.

“2 vs 2, us against TC and Screamer!”

“Wait, what? Skywarp-.” Cut off with a beach ball to the faceplates, Thundercracker freezes mid-flight. His thrusters start to ominously rumble and his vents deepen in sound. Starscream retrieves the ball, bringing it back up to his trinemate - and as of this moment - teammate.

Skywarp’s overconfident grin slowly morphs into a nervous, forced smile.

“Uh-oh.”

“Give it to ‘em, Thundercracker.” Starscream’s playful voice should _not_ sound so malicious, Skywarp thinks, transforming back to jet form and roaring away. A beach ball, projected by a crazily powerful sonic _eruption_, bounces off his vertical stabilizer. 

Before it can drop though, Lazerbeak is there, pushing the ball towards the opposing team. Not that any of them have _any_ idea what they’re playing, just that they’re bouncing the ball back and forth between their teams.

They sky has long gone dark and been painted with stars before they give up, all 4 exhausted and low on energon, but filled with joy that they had rarely experienced since the start of the war. As they start to head back to base, Lazerbeak ends her recording, having streamed the whole ‘game’ to Megatron’s personal quarters.

Sitting in a chair that resembles a throne, low grade energon cube in hand, Megatron chuckles lowly. Not in an evil manner, but just because his vocals are that deep. Standing by his side, Soundwave’s field is relaxed and content.

“Perhaps I shouldn’t have been so concerned about the seekers after all.”

“Starscream; Fully de-bugged. Risk of mutiny; 2%.” Humming in consideration, Megatron relaxes back into his chair, sipping at his energon cube.

“Perhaps I _will_ let Skywarp keep that ridiculous invention.”

“Query; Cassetticons permitted access?”

“Affirmative. Increased moral will make the Decepticons easier to lead, more willing to obey. Increased teamwork will ensure our _victory_!” Soundwave remains silent in the background, but there’s no doubt that he agrees. Ever loyal, he would never stray from Megatron’s side, but seeing him return to the great leader he was at the beginning of the war…

It made the Nemesis feel more like home.


	2. Medbay mayhem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Yeets headcanons at you*

Megatron had barely stepped out of his quarters, reading through a datapad, when a great weight slammed into him at high speed.

“Quick! Grab him, my liege!” Reacting on pure instinct at Starscream’s screech, his pedes echoing in the hallways of the Nemesis as he ran with Skywarp right behind, Megatron drops his datapad to grab the Decepticon- the _seeker_ who crashed into him, looping his arms under those delicate wings and restraining blue arms by grabbing the wrist.

Snarling and thrashing, Thundercracker appears very different from the normally calm ‘con that he is.

“Let _go_ of me!” Skywarp lets out a gleeful, victorious whoop, as Starscream slows his approach and smirks.

“Finally! You’re a real glitch-mouse to catch, you know that?” As Starscream tries to get close to put something - are those _stasis cuffs_? - on his trinemate, Thundercracker kicks out at him and spits Vosnian insults. Rebooting his processor, Megatron narrows his optics.

“What is the meaning of this, Starscream?”

“Well you see, dear leader, Thundercracker here- Oof!” A thruster nails Starscream just below his cockpit, cutting off what he was saying with a jarring jolt to his cables. Megatron tightens his grips and shakes Thundercracker a little to try and get some sense into him.

The other thruster, kicking backwards at his knee joint doesn’t do much to the former gladiator. Skywarp picks up the stasis cuffs, carefully warping around wherever his trinemate kicks.

“TC’s gotta go medbay! And, uh, he’s kinda not into that. Good thing you caught him though, ‘cus there’s no way he can escape you without getting slagged!” Thundercracker’s snarl turns into a full on growl, backed up by the roar of his engines, and he drops the Vosnian curses for standard Cybertronian.

“I’d rather go to the scrapheap than the medbay!” Before Megatron can even compute what he’s going to do, one thruster presses against Skywarp’s pauldron, the other against Megatron’s chassis. Starscream catches on instantly as he bolts back up.

“Thundercracker, no-!” A sonic boom of proportions that Megatron has never _seen_ (nor heard) the seeker use before echoes in the hallway. Grunting as he’s thrown back against the Nemesis walls, Megatron releases his catch and instead looks down to investigate where he now has a rather deep dent in his armour.

_Incredible._

What’s not so incredible is the splatter of energon over his new dent, energon he knows is not his. Starscream has a streak over his usually pristine paint as well, in multiple places that have small dents suggesting he’s been battling his trinemate for a while. Not to mention the way the explosion has left him with one wing lodged in the Nemesis wall.

A glance over at Skywarp, who keeps ‘vop’ping around trying to catch Thundercracker - who expertly avoids each grasp - shows that he has marks over him as well. This struggle must have been going on for some while.

Another sonic boom, coupled with another splatter of energon on the Nemesis floors, makes up Megatron’s mind. Growling through his vents, he takes the cannon off his arm. Starscream goes to intervene with a somewhat dawning horror, but instead of taking aim, Megatron shoves the cannon into Starscream’s arms.

“Hold this.” He marches over to where Skywarp is still trying to get the upper servo on Thundercracker, the blue seeker twisting and dodging in ways he should clearly not be when his _thrusters are severely damaged_.

Every sonic boom he releases tears them apart a little more, but from Megatron’s perspective, it doesn’t look like the seeker can control them anymore, only tell when one is about to happen. 

Rolling his shoulders to loosen the cables, Megatron prepares for this like he would any match in the gladiatorial rings of Kaon. This is a fight he’s not going to lose. But then, he knows he has to be careful too. This is not an opponent in a death match, but one of his elite soldiers who is injured and apparently, desperate, if he would attack the leader of the Decepticons.

Plus, Starscream and Skywarp are watching. If he should do anything to harm their trinemate… Well, he can deal with one seeker, but three is a whole other matter.

“This is _quite_ enough!” Noting the warning tone, Skywarp backs off to Starscream’s side, helping him pull a wing out of the now-deformed wall. Thundercracker tries to bolt for it without Skywarp blocking his path, but it’s at the moment that his left thruster gives out completely, crumping beneath his step.

He pushes himself back up, but another sonic boom rips through him, throwing him to the ground a little further away. Megatron moves in quickly, slamming his weight down on Thundercracker’s back, digging a knee-joint into his wing struts and holding his legs under his own arms, directing the sonic booms upwards.

At this angle, Megatron can tell the damage needs medbay instantly, or it will be irreversible.

“Listen to me carefully, solider. You are _going_ to the medbay, and that is an _**order**_.”

“Go jump in a smelter!” In a nanosecond, Megatron has both of Thundercracker’s ankle joints tucked neatly under the same arm that digs into his wing joint, the other arm reaching around to catch a servo that attempted to backhand his helm from behind.

“Very well. Starscream, bring those stasis cuffs over here. Set them to the lowest setting and place them around his ankle joints.” 

“The- The lowest setting, Megatron?”

“Is that not what I _said_?” At the faint growl in Megatron’s voice, Starscream complies, Skywarp anxiously trying to look over his shoulder.

“Is this really gonna work, Lord Megatron? Usually we ‘ave to put it on the highest setting and drag TC there in stasis, ‘cus, uh, he fights. Like, genuinely tries to kill us with no regard for his own safety.” At a pointed look, Skywarp nervously backs off, forcing his faceplates into a disgustingly innocent expression, for a decepticon.

“The lowest setting will disable his outlier ability for transport, and the cuffs will limit his movement. If he can’t run, he can’t escape.” Starscream mumbles something about_ 'severely underestimating the determination of an idiot’ _, fixing the stasis cuffs where ordered - around Thundercracker’s ankle joints.

It somewhat works in the way Megatron had suggested, but the sonic ripples don’t stop completely. Rather, they go from the supernova explosions they were, to a much more manageable popping. 

Megatron removes himself from Thundercracker’s back, and instantly, the seeker flips over to lay on his wings, lashing out with both legs in unison. The kick is swiftly deflected, and as Thundercracker pushes himself up with his arms, Starscream reaches for the secret handle tucked behind a hidden sliding panel beneath the right wing that stops a seeker struggling when gripped.

“He bit me, he _bit_ me!” Wrestling his servo back, Starscream inspects it, pouting at the new dents and scraped paint, before glaring intensely at his trinemate. Flakes of paint from his servo are still visible in Thundercracker’s denta as he snarls and growls.

“No worries, Star! I got ‘im!” Warping tactically between Thundercracker’s wings, Skywarp deftly tries to find the hidden panel, but he’s not precise enough, and not _quick_ enough. 

Thundercracker’s legs may be restrained, but his arms are not. He reaches over his wings, grabs Skywarp by the knee joints and tugs, leaning backwards so Skywarp’s weight rolls over him and lands him on the floor in front of himself. 

Fed up with the delay, _Megatron_ moves in. But rather than going for the hidden panel he doesn’t know about, he goes for the scruff. At the same time, Starscream lunges forwards and restrains his trinemate’s arms.

“You! Are going! To the Medbay! Whether you like it or not!” Thundercracker shouts, spits insults, and thrashes, but when Megatron gets within arms length, he goes unnervingly still, focusing his enraged glare and low growl on his own leader. His optics flicker to the dent in Megatron’s chassis for a split second, which is when Megatron reaches for the scruff.

He narrowly avoids the same kind of bite Starscream received.

“Touch me and I’ll rip your fragging servos off.” There’s a long pause filled with only the sounds of Thundercracker’s thrusters popping, creaking, and falling apart where the two glare at each other. One with resentment and what appears to be fear, the other with strict warning.

Before anyone can intervene, however, Thundercracker’s optics shutter and his helm drops for just a split second. He’s losing too much energon. His vents are overworking. The metal of his pedes is twisted, torn and charred. Megatron takes the opportunity to lunge forwards.

“If you’re going to _behave_ like a sparkling, you’re going to be _treated_ like a sparkling!” He slides one arm under Thundercracker’s legs, scooping him up at the knee joints and directing his tiny, restrained sonic blasts to the side where no mech will get hit with them.

At the same time, he snatches Thundercracker’s wrists from Starscream, the other arm wrapped around his back so his wings are pressed against Megatron’s chassis. It stops him from anymore biting attempts. Skywarp wasn’t kidding when he said Thundercracker _fights_.

“Let go of me! I’m not going to the fraggin’ medbay!” 

“Yes, you are.”

“Sorry, TC, but it’s a necessary evil!” Skywarp’s apologetic shrug as he jogs ahead of the warlord and his trinemates is rewarded with a low, angry growl. Starscream walks behind Megatron, rolling his optics.

“Oh please, Thundercracker. You can’t expect to avoid the medbay forever. Not when your power chip rectifier is in Hook’s servos, and your thrusters are - for lack of a better word - slagged.”

“_You_ get slagged.” Starscream reaches over Megatron’s shoulder to give a rough pinch to the tip of Thundercracker’s wing, which jerks away from his touch. He isn’t dropped, though. Megatron is much too strong for that, and he has a gladiators grip on his soldier right now.

The medbay doors come into view and Skywarp flashes out of view in a burst of bright purple, not bothering to knock and wait for an answer. Instead, there’s a muffled shout from inside of_ “TC’S COMING!” _, followed by the obvious scrambling of the constructicons before Skywarp opens the door from the inside.

“They’re ready for ‘im!” As ready as the constructicons may be, Thundercracker is _not_. He’s not ready at all. 

Struggling in Megatron’s hold, which looks more like squirming from how restrained he is, his field radiates nothing but sheer terror. A few distressed clicks escape his vocaliser as they approach the berth, clicks that Starscream answers with a patient purr of his engines, and Skywarp chirrups in reassurance.

Megatron raises an optic ridge, but chooses not to comment. He knows it’s a seeker-only form of communication, but he can guess what they’re saying based on the situation. What surprises him more is how _prepared_ the constructicons are.

Bonecrusher guards the gap in the door that Megatron assumes he’s going to have to leave through, Mixmaster is plastering some kind of concrete mix over _any_ viable exit, including vents, Scavenger and Long Haul stand on one side of the berth with restraints at the ready, and Hook stands with Scrapper on the other.

Hook has some kind of syringe in hand, whilst Scrapper holds a tray of tools and what is definitely a power rectifier chip. Starscream stops by the doors near Bonecrusher, ready to slam one side of them shut when ordered. Skywarp hovers around the top of the berth.

The way he glances warily at Megatron betrays how he expects the warlord to just throw Thundercracker down and walk away. Which is why his optics widen in surprise when Megatron lays him down almost… _Gently_...

“Alright, Thundercracker. What’s it going to be today? Restraints, or sedatives?”

“Go frag yourself! Malfunctioning malware! Berth-warming shareware! Groundpounding piece of slag, you- you!-” His insults turn Vosnian again, a sign that his anger is too much for his language processor to keep up with. Hook sighs, his vents heavy with something that Megatron pins as… Pity? Sympathy?

“Both it is then. Scavenger, Long Haul, if you would, please.” The two nod and secure the restraints in place, Long Haul putting stasis chips in each of (what remains of) Thundercracker’s thrusters, taking off the stasis cuffs so each ankle can be restrained freely.

Skywarp and Megatron each wrestle a furious arm down to the berth, Scavenger securing them at the wrist. Lastly, Skywarp holds Thundercracker’s helm in place with a worrying amount of practice.

Hook injects the syringe into an exposed fuel line. A burst of static - almost _whimpered_ \- crackles out of Thundercracker’s vocaliser before it shuts off, his optics squeezed tightly shut as if he can block out the world. Hook pats the closest wing with a gentleness Decepticons usually don’t possess.

“He’ll be out like a light in less than a klik. Now…” Hook turns his attention to those crowding his patient, that stern shine coming back to his visor.

“Long Haul, refill a second sedative tube. We may need it as surgery progresses. Scavenger, set up an energon fuel line. And none of that low-grade scrap that needs a tank purge afterwards! _Med-grade!!!_ This is one mech I’m not keeping here longer than necessary.” 

Then, he points at Skywarp and Megatron.

“You, and you. Out. Don’t complain, Skywarp, it’s Starscream’s turn to stay with him.”

“But- But TC _needs_ me! Star’s better when he needs facts an’ logic upon waking up an’ walking out, but this is the worst he’s been for _vorns_! He’s gonna need me to comfort him…” Starscream crosses his arms, faceplates scrunched up.

“I can comfort him fine, ‘Warp.” A flash of cheekiness crosses the bond as Skywarp sheepishly smiles.

“Yeah, but you don’t have the best personality. TC needs a mech who can light up the room! And _many_ mechs have told me I can light up a room.”

“That’s called arson and those mechs are witnesses.” The playful jab draws a snort out of Megatron, who simply crosses the med-bay and grabs Starscream by a pauldron.

“Hook, get to work. Skywarp, you’re excused for the duration of the surgery.” Gratefully, Skywarp nods and brushes his knuckles against Thundercracker’s cheek comfortingly, trying to ease him into temporary stasis without distressing him more. Starscream makes a noise of rebuttal, but Megatron fixes him with a look as he drags the SiC out into the hallway.

There’s still drips of energon marking the path they took, the occasional splatter where Thundercracker’s sonic blasts had set off. Megatron scowls.

“Starscream. Explain.” Starscream vents a mixture of frustration and distress.

“It’s… Much too long a story. Ask me specific questions and I’ll fill in what I can, my liege.”

“Thundercracker’s power rectifying chip was on the surgery tray. _How in the **pit**_ was he still producing sonic booms without it?” Starscream pinches at his nasal bridge.

“You just had to start with the difficult question first. You just _had_ to!” Glowering optics fix upon Starscream as they move to clean up the spilt energon in synchronization.

“Well?” For a moment, Starscream’s servos twist around a cleaning cloth, denta worrying his lips. With a vent that could be a huff, he rubs a servo on the back of his helm.

“Thundercracker isn’t exactly… Normal. Or at least, his outlier ability isn’t. His rectifying chip gives him the power to _control_ his sonic booms, not create them. Any mech can make them - though usually once or twice a lifespan - but Thundercracker produces them constantly, increasingly powerful the longer he can’t control them.”

“How?” Starscream tenses up.

“For that, I need to provide a little bit of context. A backstory, so to say.” Scowling, Megatron wrings out a cloth full of energon into a bucket.

“Then _do so_. I don’t take kindly to one of my elite soldiers having self-destructive abilities that could put him at risk.”

It’s a very roundabout way of saying he _cares_, because as this war progresses, and without Starscream’s glitch causing multiple betrayals, Megatron has softened to his forces. Like a reluctant sire.

Who knew leading an army resulted in accidental family unit acquisition?

Starscream seems to pick up on the underlining meaning, releasing the tension in his armour.

“I’m sure you know my sire was Winglord of Vos.” Narrowing his optics, Megatron nods. He needs to tread carefully here. Vos is a sore subject with seekers, especially those in his army who had lost all but their trinemates. 

(Seekers who had lost trinemates didn’t live to join the Decepticons. It was a downfall in the way trines worked.)

“I heard rumour of Novasong’s fairness and active missions to ensure Vos was safe and secure.” A faint smile grows on Starscream’s faceplates.

“Not just safe and secure; happy. He wanted his Kingdom to be somewhere everyone lived in peace.” The smile falls a little, Starscream scrubbing at a puddle of energon and not caring that it paints his digits.

“He undertook those missions to save those who needed saving, and take down organisations that benefitted off abuse and manipulation. Shortly after I had upgraded into my third frame, Sire returned. At that point, I was too excited about Skywarp - who was visiting with his carrier, a duke, to discuss his own third frame upgrade - to realise the horrors of where my Sire had been.” Starscream’s faceplates twitch into a scowl, before he chuckles warmly.

“Imagine mine and Skywarp’s surprise when Sire introduced us to a tiny first frame! That was a full _deca-cycle_ after he had returned from a mission to an underground laboratory that did illegal experiments on _**sparklings**_. Thundercracker had been in quarantine in our palace medbay for three entire earth weeks.”

“Experiments?”

“Yes… They turned Thundercracker’s outlier ability into a weapon that tortured him as well as his targets. Apparently, when he didn’t comply, the ‘scientists’ would remove their shoddy control chip and let his own power blast his pedes to scrap metal. Even after Sky and I had been introduced to him, TC had to stay in the medbay for a further 1.2 decivorns.”

Contemplating what to ask next, Megatron decides to steer the conversation in a different direction, noticing how Starscream’s servos tremble.

“When did you realise he was your trinemate?” Starscream seems relieved for the topic change, snorting out a laugh.

“When he first spoke. He called Sky ‘funny’ and me ‘pretty’, then crawled into our laps and went into recharge! We were both third frames by that point, he was still just a second frame. Just a _youngling_. We waited until we were all in our adult upgrades to finalise the trinebond.”

“Finalise?”

“Mhm. All mechs have a bond with their trine once they’ve spoken to each other, no matter the age. But finalizing the trinebond connects your sparks together. Not in a bonding way, but… Hmm… Think of it like split-sparks, but a trine, and it can be created at any point with the right mechs.”

“Interesting… Do you contact each other, like bonded do?”

“Not quite. It’s similar to being in someone’s field, except that field is always there, it’s in your spark, and it influences your own mood. It’s both the greatest feeling in the universe and a pain in the aft.” Megatron chuckles at that, but then goes quiet. He needs to bring it back to their former discussion. He has questions that require answers.

“Then you and Skywarp were distressed just now because Thundercracker felt that way…”

“Indeed. He tried thinning his side of the trinebond - and no, I’m not explaining that, dear leader, because it takes too much time - but with that much distress, it was inevitable that we would be affected.”

Humming under a vent in contemplation, Megatron allows them to fall into silence as they clean. Starscream’s wings had been held high and tense through the explanation, but they now lowered to a neutral position as they removed more energon from the Nemesis walls. And floors. And _ceiling_.

How in the pit did Thundercracker get that up there?

… Actually, Megatron decides he doesn’t want to know. 17 corridors - _Seventeen!!!_ \- and four rooms later, the only evidence of their ‘battle’ that remains is the dents and scratches in the metalwork. Those can stay.

“There! Every last speck of energon cleaned! It’s cleaner than my personal record.”

“That doesn’t take much, Starscream.” A wrung-out cleaning cloth smacks Megatron right across the optics, remaining there for 3 nanocycles before it sags comically to the ground. Megatron scowls, optics narrowed, but Starscream only walks away ‘innocently’.

At least it was only a cleaning cloth, not a blast from his null-rays like it would have been _before_ his debug.

“Hook should be done by now! I want to be there when my trinemate emerges from stasis.” 

“Have patience, Starscream. I’m sure Skywarp will contact you when time is due.” Starscream levels his leader with a flat stare, before he marches off towards the medbay anyways. Orders be damned, that’s his trinemate in there. 

He speeds up as he approaches the closed doors, no doubt still being guarded on the inside from Bonecrusher, feeling Thundercracker’s third of the trinebond increase with strength and activity. He doesn’t _need_ Skywarp to comm him. Thundercracker tells him himself, albeit unknowingly.

“Open up! I _know_ you’ve finished repairs!” The door creaks open just a little and Bonecrusher glares out the gap at him.

“Do I hafta shove you outta here before you cause trouble?” Crossing his arms and raising one optic ridge, Starscream’s reply drips with venom.

“Do I have to make it an official _order_? Get out of the way, Constucti-clod.” Unsurprisingly, the door slams shut in Starscream’s face. After an astrosecond of being completely taken aback, Starscream pounds on the door with his fists.

“Open up! That is an order! Open! This door! **NOW**!!!!” He isn’t exactly making progress, but then, there’s a flash of bright purple next to him.

“You’re just in time, ‘Screamer! Hook says the sedatives are starting to wear off!”

“Well then, why aren’t you with him?!” Skywarp rolls his eyes at his commander and trineleader’s attitude, but grabs his pauldron and warps them in together anyways. Starscream immediately shoots Bonecrusher a smug grin.

Bonecrusher squeezes a piece of scrap metal into a ball. 

“Easy, TC, no need to panic. It’s all over now, we got you.” Skywarp floods the trinebond with _comfort/reassurance/safety_, drowning out the fuzzy beginnings of Thundercracker’s misery and anger. Quickly moving to Thundercracker’s other side, Starscream does the same, gently clutching a servo that threatens to turn into a fist.

“There’s no need to fight. We’ve already done what’s needed.” Thundercracker’s vents kick into gear, his systems whining as he comes back online, optics flickering with a dull light. Hook approaches, rubbing his servos clean on a cloth.

“His thrusters are fully fixed, but it’ll take his self-repair system some time to reconnect them to his CPU. I’ve left the stasis chips in so he can’t use his outlier ability until they’re ready. Take them out after an earth week. Until then, he needs to stay _off_ his pedes. I won’t be kind if I have to do this again this vorn!”

“Understood.” When Starscream turns back, Skywarp is brushing over bright blue wings in a calming manner, chirping and trilling cheerfully. He was right, Starscream notes. His facts and scientific demeanor isn’t needed here, at least not until Thundercracker has fully onlined.

And for that, he needs Skywarp to drag him out of stasis peacefully. They don’t want _another_ fight on their hands. Or Hook. Definitely not Hook.

“That’s it! _There’s_ my partner in crime!” Skywarp grins brightly as Thundercracker looks up at him, an uneasy smile at his trinemate before his faceplates flicker back to cold dread at where he is.

Medbays, science labs, illegal experimentation facilities… They’re all the same to him.

“It’s okay, we’re gonna get you out of here now. You can rely on us, TC.” Starscream helps him to sit up, all whilst Skywarp goes back to Vosnian Seeker speak, distracting Thundercracker whilst his processor is still foggy and mid-reboot. This would be so much harder if he was fully aware of his surroundings.

“Ready?” Skywarp nods at the question, shuffling around so he’s behind Thundercracker, and loops his arms under his wings. Starscream tucks a leg under each arm, servos tightly gripping the underside of Thundercracker’s knee joints.

“3, 2, 1… Lift!” They pick him up in unison, tightening their holds when he struggles, but the haze of the sedatives and stasis are still in Thundercracker’s system, so once they’re out of the medbay, he sags in their arms and shutters off his optics.

Recharge is calling and he’s not waiting for his berth to get it. 

Skywarp laughs quietly, not too sure of how Thundercracker could just fall into recharge whist he and Starscream are stumbling about like idiots through the corridors, Starscream hissing commands and insults whilst clumsily walking backwards. 

“Finally!” Using his wingtip, Starscream punches in the code to their shared quarters, and they carefully maneuver Thundercracker inside. His wings almost clip the doors, but a little bit of jostling fixes the problems. Nemesis entrances just weren’t made for seekers.

One large berth fixed against the wall is their destination, and they carefully climb on before lowering Thundercracker down to rest. Almost immediately, he stirs in recharge, turning over onto his cockpit to rest instead. 

Both Starscream and Skywarp are trapped beneath him - Starscream by his legs and Skywarp suddenly with arms around his own legs - but they just look at each other and share a snicker. 

“He’s gonna be so humiliated if we take a picture of this~.”

“Absolutely _not_, Skywarp. That’s enough for one day, just let him rest.” Leaning over so his helm rests against the wall, wings angled so they don’t scrape anything, Skywarp shutters his own optics closed.

“True. I’m pretty beat too.”

“Megatron only excused you for the duration of the surgery.” Grinning cheekily, Skywarp slows down his vents.

“Recovery is part of surgery, duh. And TC’s got _aaaaall_ week. Pretty sure Meg’s can handle one day without us. Plus, it _would_ be funny to watch him blow a gasket.” A silent pause. Skywarp’s grin only grows the longer Starscream stays quiet.

“... Yes, yes it would, wouldn’t it?” That settles it, and with the sensation of laughter and great joy thrumming over the trinebond, Skywarp dials down into recharge himself. Starscream huffs through his vents, but it’s thick with affection atop the exasperation. 

“Good reflux, Skywarp, Thundercracker.”

Before he slips into a recharge of his own, Starscream notifies Megatron of the change in plans and an updated schedule that doesn’t include him and Skywarp for the rest of the cycle. 

He ignores the strongly worded comm that comes back in favour of resting with his trinemates, piled up on the berth just they way they always do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please Kudos and comment~!


	3. Bewitched!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween~!

“Idiots.” Megatron has his faceplates in his servos, thankful that his gun was by the side of his throne and not on his arm, because he’s _very_ tempted to use it.

“Absolute, bit-brained _idiots_.” He peers through his digits at the three standing in front of him, one smug, one grinning, one completely stone-faced. Their fields radiate amusement, the same amusement that is currently making Megatron consider retirement.

“I should have you half-clocked wingnuts _recycled_.” The trine only fidgets, their amusement growing stronger. They’re holding back laughter. Soundwave, standing further behind Megatron, seems to be also holding back laughter. But rather than _with_ the seekers, he would definitely be laughing _at_ them.

Because all three of the idiots are covered in sticky glue, some green glowing goop, and an abundance of _**feathers**_. In a shower rack somewhere, Astrotrain is in the same condition but with much more anger. 

“I almost can’t wrap my processor around the fact you _destroyed_ the entire storage bay, just to… To…” He trails off, not sure how to word it. 

“Seekers; set up elaborate prank. Target; Astrotrain.” 

“To _prank_ Astrotrain! The entire storage bay!” Any sane soldier would have flinched at the raising volume of Megatron’s shout, but by now, it should be very clear that the seekers aren’t sane.

“With all due respect, _my liege_, I selected the only storage bay that hasn’t been used since the Nemesis’ construction!”

“Yeah! Star picked a great area! I was gonna do it in the rec room so we could get more targets.”

“I talked them out of that.” As thankful as Megatron is that at least _one_ of them - Thundercracker - still has at least quarter of a processor, there’s no forgiving what they’ve done, the destruction they’ve caused, and no pardoning the fact that they were all involved.

Asides from the fact it was a prank, their set-up was rather genius, actually. Megatron would have been impressed if he didn’t currently have a storage room that could function as a green goop, glue, and feather swimming pool.

And, _by Cybertron_, what it must have done to the pipes…

“The fact remains that all three of you have destroyed Decepticon property, attacked a soldier unprovoked, and _made a mess_!!! Mixmaster thinks only hydrochloric acid can cut through this… Goop.”

“It’s water, glue, glycerin, slime activator, and just a _tiiiiiiny_ touch of toxic waste that incidentally turned it neon green.”

“Of course, we didn’t wait the full 2 earth days for it to set or it wouldn’t have had the correct consistency.”

“_And_ it wasn’t unprovoked! We picked Astrotrain ‘cus he was a jerk to Star!”

“It took me a full cycle to buff out those scuffs!” Megatron slams a fist on the arm of his throne, interrupted Starscream and Skywarp’s protests. 

“Enough! Not only do I want a report from each of you on my desk within the next 2 solar cycles, you are also going to be _punished_.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Uh-oh is right, Skywarp! Soundwave, bring up the mission requirements.” Soundwave taps away at the main computer in Megatron’s office, bringing up the ‘mission’ on the giant screen. Glancing over at the seekers, Megatron notices Starscream looking incredibly off-put by what he reads, Skywarp glossing it over with disinterest, and Thundercracker awkwardly shuffling on his pedes as he stared blankly at the screen.

Ah, right, he’d written it in Kaonite. He’d written it in a language the blue seeker couldn’t _read_.

“Translate to Cybertronian standard.” The relieved twitch of Thundercracker’s wings is replaced by a nervous flutter as he processes what Megatron wants them to do.

“We’re… Sneaking into the Autobot base? Sir, that’s literal suicide. You may as well just shoot us yourself.”

“Tempting, but it seems there is a translation error.” That’s to be expected. Even Cybertronian translation services aren’t perfect, considering there were so many languages with their own styles and dialects. Only language programmes installed directly into a mech’s database were 100% accurate.

“You’ll be _observing_ the Autobot base.” Megatron is reminded that Starscream has been quiet far too long when the high-pitch screeching vocaliser cuts off the rest of what he was going to explain.

“You want us to observe ‘unusual’ activity, on the _doorstep_ of the Autobot base, where they do all of their frilly human stuff?! This mission isn’t just suicidal, as Thundercracker said, it’s _stupid_! Those Auto-dolts are clearly just partaking in some bizarre human ritual again!”

Starscream wasn’t kidding when he said ‘again’. The past time they’ve spent on Earth, the Autobots have been witnessed taking part in Chanukah, Christmas, Kwanzaa, New Years Eve, St Patrick's Day, Easter, the human boys birthday, and something called ‘Oil-imp-eeks’, though Starscream was insistent he was spelling that wrong.

It wouldn’t be a surprise if this Autobot activity was just another Earthen custom.   
A stupid one.   
One perfectly designed to punish stupid seekers with.

“And if it isn’t, my oh-so-clever second in command?” That gives Starscream pause, but he just smirks, putting his hands sassily on his hips.

“That’s a very roundabout way of suggesting you’re too _scared_ to fight, oh Mighty Megatron!”

“Make no mistake, Starscream, there is _no_ battle I fear. There is a difference between going into a war blind, and knowing what your enemy is planning.” The tension eases off of Starscream’s faceplates. Megatron’s words are logical and make sense, and surely he wouldn’t send them if it was a _literal_ suicide mission?

His overprotectiveness flares up a little, but the other two send reassurance through the trinebond. It’s mingled in with their humour from the prank they pulled, relaxing Starscream immediately.

He tries to put his arms back down.

_Tries_.

Instead of budging from his hips, his servos pull away just an inch, revealing the sticky green goop stringing between the surfaces. Oh _Primus_, it’s started setting, and his servos are _**stuck**_.

“... Skywarp.”

“Yeah?”

“Please tell me you used squishy glue, _as instructed_, and not the Cybertronian superglue from Mixmaster’s office.”

“...” 

“_Don’t_ tell me you used that…”

“I- I won’t tell you…?”

“SKYWARP!” He would smack his trinemate, if he could, but his servos are currently stuck to his hips. The more Starscream tries to pull them away, the more he twists and contorts until he’s circling around like an earthen chicken with no helm, squawking insults like one too.

Skywarp laughs, pointing at Starscream and warping backwards a few steps every time Starscream swings an elbow at him, or kick at his kneejoints, with a screech of_ ‘get fragged!’_

Megatron buries his faceplates in his servos, hunched over in his chair looking for all the universe like he’s about to surrender this war, just so he doesn’t have to put up with these idiot seekers any more. 

Honestly, they’re like misbehaving _younglings_.

“Hold- Pfft! - Hold still, ‘Screamer! I’ll yank your arm free!” Skywarp reaches out, servos grabbing for one of Starscream’s elbow joints. Having been watching his trinemates with a fond but weary smile, Thundercracker suddenly jolts forwards.

“Skywarp, don’t-!” He cuts himself off as Skywarp yanks at Starscream’s elbow, tilting his head innocently towards his blue trinemate.

“What? Why?” Thundercracker snorts a laugh, only just remembering not to put his own goop-covered servo over his faceplate. His amusement is evident both over the trinebond and in his general field.

“Try taking your servos away, Sky.” Skywarp looks back down at his servos. Tugs. Almost pulls Starscream over. Then, looks back to Thundercracker with dawning horror that shapes into giddy laughter at the situation.

“Bwahaha! I always said you’d be stuck with me, ‘Screamer!”

“What? What do you mean, you idiot? What have you-?! SKYWARP! You utter half-clocked glitchhead! Why would you stick yourself to _me_!?!?” Despite the screeching and complaints, Starscream has to repress his own laugh.

He can’t help it, he’s just so giddy from the emotions over the trinebond, happy from their success at pranking Astrotrain, and victorious at the pained expression on Megatron’s faceplates.

Or rather, in his field. His faceplates are still in his servos. 

“Hey TC, come join us! C’mon TC!”

“I think I’ll decline, this time~.”

“Don’t make me suffer this alone, Thundercracker, Skywarp _smells_.”

“Excuse you! That’s the goop, not me!”

“It’s both. Thundercracker, get over here and share my fate, now.” 

“Yeah, get over here and give us a _biiiiiig_ hug, TC!” With Skywarp grinning at him like an idiot and Starscream fighting back a smile, it’s hard for Thundercracker not to laugh with them. When they lunge at him, however, he does side-step away and swat out at them with the servo not covered in goop.

“Get away, you morons! You got yourselves stuck like that, you can _stay_ like that, without me.” Megatron slides his servos down his faceplates, his optics dull as he watches three tinfoil turkeys practically dancing around his office, leaving tiny globs of goop on the floor, two of them stuck together and the third desperately evading the same torment.

When they finally have Thundercracker cornered, that’s when he decides to step in and stop the madness.

“_Enough_.” The trine immediately stops, having forgotten where they were, and look at Megatron with matching grins of mischievousness. Unexpectedly, it’s Thundercracker who breaks the silence with a loud vent that sounds like his snort from earlier.

It’s followed by Skywarp’s snicker, Starscream cackle, and then all three of them are in _hysterics_.

“What are you wingnuts laughing at now?!” None of them are in any condition to answer. Stepping forwards from the shadows at the back of the room, Soundwave provides the answer. That’s not to say he’s neutral as usual about it. His optics are crinkled, glowing bright.

“Megatron; decorated with ‘goop’ and feather.”

“...Where.” The deadpan demand only sends the seekers further into their little realm of idiocy. Skywarp laughs and vents so hard that he actually falls onto his aft, pulling Starscream with him via the sticky goop. Thundercracker _tries_ to make himself look stern again, but his faceplates keep twitching and his vents heave as the chuckles tear themselves free every now and then.

“Helm; Diagonally.” There’s a moment where Soundwave seems to be considering something.

“Reminiscent of human lore; Robin Hood’s hat.” The comparison only has Skywarp - who is well-versed with human fiction - howling so hard that he actually stutters for a moment. He really isn’t venting enough. Stuck to him anyways, Starscream gives him a hearty nudge between the wings that keeps his trinemate cycling precious air elements.

“... I regret asking. Soundwave, I don’t trust these idiots transversing the halls by themselves in this _state_. See to it that they make it to the wash racks before they leave for their mission.”

“Yes, Lord Megatron.”

Honestly, Soundwave thinks, this is worse than any punishment onboard the Nemesis.

3 times, Skywarp falls over, dragging Starscream with him and getting them more stuck together until Skywarp is basically piggy-backing his trine leader. Too many times to count, Starscream tries to trip Thundercracker for managing to avoid this sticky fate, and one of his attempts ends up with Thundercracker’s faceplates against the wall.

It takes removing the wall panel to separate the seeker from the wall. Blinded by the panel, Thundercracker has to rely on either his trine, or Soundwave. It’s… A difficult walk, one only made worse when Skywarp yanks Starscream backwards, getting his wings and aft stuck to the floor. 

Fortunately, he manages to warp out of it. But in his haste he forgets about Starscream, so even though they’re finally apart, Starscream is still stuck to the floor, now missing a layer of paint Skywarp warped off with him. Soundwave is tempted to leave him there.

Karma is swiftly delivered when a poorly-timed door closes right in Skywarp’s way, smashing his servos against his faceplates. Now, Soundwave has _two_ visually impaired seekers, and one literally glued to the floor.

It doesn’t help that every little thing makes their fields brighter, less controlled, and closer to _hilarity_. For everything that makes Soundwave want to sigh in resignation, the trine breaks into titters and giggles.

“Seekers; Please calm.” 

“How about Soundwave, get me the _frag_ off the floor?!”

“Hey, hey, TC. Guess you could say ‘Screamer is pretty ‘floored’ right now! Right, right~?!” Thundercracker snorts a distorted laugh through the wall panel.

“You’re pretty ‘flawed’ too, Sky.”

“Hey! Don’t use my own incredible ability for puns against me!”

“You’re going to be incredible _scrap_ if you don’t get me off this floor! Both of you!”

“Seekers; _Please_ calm.” Soundwave’s borderline-beg goes ignored as the three continue to squabble, right up until the point that Starscream manages to _rip_ himself free of the Nemesis floors, taking a nice portion of ripped metal along with his aft.

Skywarp collapses with laughter, peering out between the servos stuck to his face, and even Starscream shuts off his vocaliser as it crackles with static that suggests he was _about_ to laugh. Although he can’t see what’s going on - thank you, wall - Thundercracker can feel the trinebond dancing in delight and joy, and that’s all it takes to drag him into hearty chuckling.

Soundwave runs a servo down his visor with a pained vent.

This was testing even his patience! And he’d raised 6 cassettes! _Including_ Rumble and Frenzy!

(He does realise, after a sparkbeat, that his cassettes are only frozen young because of their link to him. The Seekers were much, much younger, too young to even remember Megatron’s uprising and the start of the war.)

“Into wash racks; Immediately. Megatron awaits.” Waving the trine into the soldiers wash racks, Soundwave makes sure he holds the door open to prevent another incident like the one with Skywarp’s servos. And faceplates.

He sends a quick prayer to Primus that this will be over quickly, and the cold trickle of their barely-working wash racks will dampen their spirits with their frames.

“Skywarp, don’t you dare throw that-!” 

“Put the grease bar down! No, Starscream, don’t throw it back at him!”

“He can’t get me anyways! Screamer couldn’t hit a moving target if he- Oof!” There’s a thud loud enough to shake even the corridors around the wash racks as Skywarp - evidently - slips on the grease bar Starscream had thrown at his feet.

There’s a beat of silence. So much so, that Soundwave thinks they’ve _finally_ stopped acting like idiots.

That fragile hope is shattered by Starscream’s shrieking laughter, Thundercracker’s uproarious laugh, and Skywarp’s unholy cackling. Dear Primus, he shouldn’t have left them unsupervised. 

“Soundwave; does not deserve this…” Helm in his servos, he waits in the hallway, the sounds of playful battle and sparkling-esque chirrups of joy audible through the wall behind him. It would be a wonderful, homely noise, if he didn’t have to then escort the troublemakers to the tower to send them on their mission.

The seekers emerge from the wash racks with dopey grins, bubbles where they once had green goop and water droplets where there were feathers. 

“... Seekers; dry accordingly?” Starscream smugly snorts, waving a hand in a flippant manner.

“Oh please, we’re going _flying_. No need to dry off with silly vent systems when we can just… Uh…” He seems to not know the words, so Thundercracker helpfully intervenes;

“Create our own ‘drying system’ with a couple of stunts?” Before Starscream can agree, Skywarp then interrupts;

“Yeah!!! Like, nyoom, y’know?” Soundwave does not know. Soundwave nods anyways. He doesn’t need an explanation, and if these idiots want to risk rust, cable rot, and a potential virus, then so be it. They’re responsible for themselves.

… 

They _should_ be responsible for themselves.

_Oh Primus, if the seekers get themselves slagged, he’s going to feel **so** responsible…_

“Take caution; Earthen environment unkind to wet systems.” Starscream rolls his optics, but nods all the same.

There we go, responsibility passed.

“Mission deadline; In 3 groons. Return by then.” Hating how much he sounds like a creator - like back when he first gave life to his eldest cassette - Soundwave sees them off. He doesn’t miss that Thundercracker gives a friendly shove to Starscream as the doors close.

Soundwave is sure that if he went to the monitor room, he’d see the seekers play-fighting in the confined space before launching out the tower. 

He would absolutely be right. 

“Eat my dust, tinfoil turkeys!” Starscream launched out of the tower with a delighted trill, his speed ensuring that he gets first place out. Skywarp follows, warping the exit hatch so he doesn’t have to try and squeeze through.

Thundercracker takes up the back, snickering and shaking his helm in fond exasperation. He falls into his place in the trine formation, careful to get just the right distance and velocity. In this kind of mood, all three of them are going to be dancing in mid-air, doing crazy stunts that squishy-made planes aren’t advanced enough for, and pulling off high-risk maneuvers just because they’re _fun_.

There isn’t much time for fun in a war.

Soaring through the skies and racing through the clouds, nothing can stop the giddy feeling in their sparks, echoing across their trinebond so strongly that Skywarp keeps doing little loop-de-loops to burn off extra energy, Starscream speeds upwards only to freefall back into position, and Thundercracker does a barrel roll or two.

“We’re reaching the edge of Autobot supervision quadrants! Descend and move in on pedes, carefully!” Starscream lands on the dusty earth, quickly moving behind a large rock just in case there’s any autobots patrolling. When his scanners show up nothing, he waits for his trinemates to join him.

Skywarp lands with a somersault, covering himself in dust. Thundercracker practically tackles Starscream, landing a little too hard with a soft laugh as Starscream steadies him. Maybe those barrel rolls _weren’t_ such a good idea.

“Realign your balance chips, idiots~.” Skywarp sticks a glossa out, but does as Starscream orders anyways. He’s still in far too much of a good mood, but they are approaching enemy territory. Best to let Starscream - who is remarkably the calmest out of all three of them right now - take full command.

The three creep closer, Starscream moving in first before waving Thundercracker over and Skywarp warping to their side. It’s hard to take this seriously when the latter keeps badly humming the mission impossible theme with dramatic ‘DODODUUUN’s throughout.

Some mission this is turning out to be. It’s more like… Messing around.

Which would be fine, if the Autobots weren’t as trigger-happy as the Decepticons, morals be damned.

“Skywarp, you have 30 astroseconds to finish that ridiculous ‘tune’, or I’ll _let_ the Autobots silence you.”

“... Ta-Daaaa~.” Shaking his hands with a flourish, Skywarp holds on to his noise for a full 31 astroseconds _just_ to keep Starscream looking at him with snarky disappointment. Despite his playfulness, Starscream doesn’t shove his trinemember out from behind their rock.

Mostly because that might get him killed. They’re right on the cusp of the Autobot surveillance system.

“Stay low to the ground, step carefully, and let _me_ judge when we’re ready to move. You idiots are too hyper to notice a planet right now.”

“Star, we’re literally standing on a planet.” Starscream’s elbow meets Thundercracker’s side with a short, sharp jab for his cheeky comment. Despite their elated and somewhat inappropriate moods for this mission, the three seekers weave their way forwards, with Starscream picking out their route, and Skywarp catching up to them last by warping straight there.

“... I _**knew**_ it was just a stupid squishy thing again! This mission was always _pointless_, curse our dear leader!” Whilst Starscream rants and sulks behind their boulder, Skywarp peers over with an expression of pure wonder.

“It- It _Halloween_!” His momentary lapse in grammar, paired with the high-pitched squeak of excitement betrays just how close he is to jumping out and joining in. Starscream tugs him back down behind cover.

“It’s… What? I demand an explanation.”

“Halloween! It’s- I found a whole section of squishy movies on the subject! It’s an entire earth day dedicated to spooky things and decorating and treats!!! When it gets dark, the squishy sparklings roam free in costumes so the scary things can come back to earth and the humans won’t get eaten!” 

“It’s a little more complex than that, but Skywarp has most of it right. Adult squishies sacrifice treats to the costumed sparklings and other-worldly to ensure they survive until next year. I think.” Looking between his trinemates, Starscream shutters his optics before something dawns on him.

“Is this like those ‘Nightmare before Christmas’ and ‘Sabrina’ movies you showed me?”

“And ‘Scared Shrekless’. Y’know, the one TC refused to watch because ‘The only valid Shrek movies are 1 and 2’?”

“I stand by my decision.” 

“It’s _part_ of the _**continuity!**_ You can’t just deny its existence!” As his trinemates squabble, Starscream sighs, running a servo down his face before peering over the boulder and turning on his scanners with narrowed optics.

The Autobots stood in what seemed to be a large semi-circle around the entrance of the base, but with a gap in the middle that Starscream supposed was in case of anyone going out on patrol, or a reason to rush out of the base.

(In a situation like if three seekers were spotted lurking on their doorstep…)

Those who were stood hid behind an extremely large piece of what the fleshies called ‘cardboard’, painted to look like the doors those flesh creatures used for their homes. Interestingly, Starscream notes, it’s the _older_ Autobots who stand behind the ‘doors’.

Not old, necessarily, but old_er_.

Ironhide, Ratchet, Trailbreaker, Smokescreen, Prowl, Jazz, Hound, Mirage, Wheeljack, Brawn, Gears, Blaster, Perceptor and _Optimus Prime himself_ each have their own cardboard door to stand behind, and a bowl of what looks suspiciously like treats each.

Walking around and knocking on these ‘doors’ are the younger of the Autobots, including the human youngling known as Spike. He, as always, sticks to the side of Bumblebee, although they’re closely followed by Bluestreak. On the other side of the semi-circle, those pit-darned twins are harassing Prowl, although the SIC doesn’t seem too bothered.

Inferno comes running out of the base with a tray full of… Something, _something that looks delicious_, and walks around the back of the doors to restock the treat bowls. Just coming out of the Autobot entrance at their own pace are the Dinobots, currently in Dinosaur mode.

“I presume by ‘costume’, you mean those pieces of fabric the Autobots are covering themselves in?” His query breaks through the squabble Skywarp and Thundercracker have gotten into, pausing as one pinches at the other’s wing, whilst he grabs a pauldron in return. Curiousity piqued, they join him in peering over the boulder.

Skywarp instantly drops back down, shaking in laughter and clapping his hands over his mouth to muffle his spluttered laugh.

“What? Skywarp, what-?”

“Iron- Ironhide’s a _scarecrow!_ Trailbreaker is bat and- and- Bwahahaha!!! Bumblebee is a _minion!_” Not helping his trinemate at all, Thundercracker smirks and talks down towards him.

“You forgot to mention Bluestreak as that ‘Hunger Games’ arrow-sniper girl, Mirage as a ghost - _literally_ invisible with just a white cloth over him -, Hound as a scary tree of some kind, and Ratchet as _Mercy_ from that game you keep playing.”

Skywarp’s engine splutters as he wheezes, momentarily stopping before he remembers to vent, Starscream smacking the back of his helm to remind him that he should probably stay online. It takes Skywarp a moment to compose himself, listening to Starscream question the Autobots costumes, and Thundercracker inform him of their choices.

_Huh. Didn’t expect TC to be into Halloween._   
_... Or squishy culture at all, actually…_

“So what are those infernal Dinobots costumed as, then?”

“Uhh… Grimlock is a vampire, I think… Slag is a werewolf, Snarl, uh… Some kind of rock creature, possibly a golem? Swoop is a dragon. I have no idea what Sludge is though.” Starscream snickers.

Their trinebond is still echoing with the mischievous, almost delirious joy from earlier, and Skywarp trying to calm down is only adding to it. Their shared delight in seeing the Autobots dressed up in ridiculous costumes only fuels the silliness, and _oh Primus_, Starscream can feel that familiar descent into hilarity-fuelled madness.

“Sky, get up here and- _stop laughing_ \- get up here and help me out. What’s Sludge?” Swallowing down another batch of laughter, Skywarp slinks back up the boulder, peering over. His processor takes a long pause.

“_OhMyPrimus_.” He wheezes, engines spluttering and static escaping his vocaliser even though he slams it shut to prevent the guffaw that threatened to give their position away. Starscream and Thundercracker look at him in surprise, look to each other as if to confirm they’re slowly watching Skywarp mentally decline into madness, then turn back to him.

He can feel their concern pulse over the trinebond, but it’s mixed in with amusement at just how much of a fool he’s making of himself.

“You okay, Sky~?”

“Cybertron Above, you’re already covered with dust and now you’re rolling on the ground? What in the _Pit_ has made you such a lunatic?” Venting hard to prevent his engine - and thrusters - from spluttering again, Skywarp manages to recover just enough to whisper in a voice almost too high;

“Ho- _Hocus Pocus Diplodocus_... Hocus Pocus Di- Diplod_ocusssss_-!!!” His vocaliser shorts out with a burst of static, Skywarp hunched over and quivering so hard with laughter that his wings give off a buzz.

“... Mhmph. Pfft. PFFFT-!” Starscream turns away, trying to mask his restrained, shrieking laugh as a cough or a rough vent, but the trinebond _dances_ and his wings flicker their amusement. Thundercracker just about manages to slap a servo over his faceplates as he snorts, hoping the Autodolts think it’s just the usual earthquake…

“Prime, didja hear that?”

“That I did, Ironhide. And I don’t think it was one of ours.” _Oh **slag**_. Thundercracker reaches out to slap his trineleader across the shoulder, and grabs one of Skywarp’s pauldrons to shake him.

“Warp us out of here, quick! The Autobots are-!”

“About ta rip you a new afterburner!” The heat of a gun pointed directly to his wingstruts sobers him up almost instantly, and protectiveness flares up in it. His trinemates are in no condition to deal with the Autobots right now. 

Starscream hasn’t even _noticed_, having walked a little further away to laugh to himself, just out of earshot. Skywarp is still on the ground. Clenching his denta together, Thundercracker raises his arms and turns around comically slow to face Ironhide.

Or at least, his weapon. A quick glance around shows Cliffjumper a little further back but also eagerly warming up his gun, the SIC and TIC posed to shoot if they have to, and those _stupid, grabby, spawn-of-Unicron twins_ posed on a ledge in case the Seekers take flight.

It’s still hard to take them seriously when they’re dressed as a variety of Halloween characters. 

“...Trick or treat?” 

“Ah’d say Decepticon trick!”

“Yeah! So we’ll treat _ourselves_ to your deactivation!” The gun pointing right at his faceplates brightens with the glow of a laser and the heat becomes almost unbearable and _Primus, please let Sky and Star escape-_

“Easy, Ironhide! Cliffjumper! Lower your weapons.” Prime places a hand atop Ironhide’s gun, forcefully pushing it down so it points towards the ground, slowly enough that he doesn’t set off the trigger.

“Wha-?! Prime! We got the command trine right here an’ you wan’ us _not_ ta shoot?!” Cliffjumper voices his agreement, and Thundercracker can hear the uneasy murmurs from the Autobots further back, but not what they’re saying because Skywarp is still wheezing and cackling, tears of energon streaming down his faceplates as he laughs.

Thundercracker kicks his heel backwards to catch Skywarp’s wing.

“Ow! TC-! ...Oh.” He gives his trinemate a quick glare over his shoulder, getting a sheepish grin in return, before turning back. Prime gives a quiet but warm chuckle, reaching out to his side, and Thundercracker warms up his weapons system. Skywarp makes to get up, but his fit of hilarity has left him… Somewhat unsteady.

“Wheeljack? If I may…?”

“Huh? Oh, sure, Prime!” The crazy inventor - ironically dressed up as a mad scientist - passes over a bowl to the Prime. His headfins flash a relaxed blue, and he’s either incredibly brave, incredibly stupid, or does not know fear.

(It’s probably the last one, if he can frequently blow himself up on the battlefield with his _own_ inventions.)

“I highly doubt you’d know the earthen custom if you were here to cause trouble~. Please, take some. ...And for Starscream too, if he’s finished hiding behind that rock.” Thundercracker peers into the bowl.

Energon goodies! Rust sticks! Oil cake! _Chrome-Alloy wheel nuts!!_

Despite his distrust - optics constantly flicking to Optimus Prime - Thundercracker slowly reaches into the bowl and picks out the latter. They were a rare, imported treat in Vos, until a Vosnian homemade version was produced, and though he doesn’t remember them much, he knows they were absolutely his favourite. Wheeljack brightens up.

“Ah! Those! I, uh, kinda goofed up the recipe. Not enough Rhodium, too much lithium, magnesium, and lead.” With his other hand, Thundercracker passes a rust stick to Skywarp, (Mostly to keep him quiet), before tentatively biting into the wheel nut. His optics widen.

“It… Tastes just like home…” He doesn’t realise he’s said it aloud until Skywarp jabs the back of his thruster and Wheeljack’s headfins flash a surprised yellow.

“Really?” Ducking his head to try and hide his embarrassment, Thundercracker grumbles;

“They’re identical to the Vosnian recipe.” A pleased purr of Optimus’s engines is followed by him holding the bowl out in offering.

“In that case, happy halloween~.” Cautiously taking the bowl of treats, Thundercracker waits until Skywarp is standing again before flicking his wings to indicate they should run. Skywarp nods, stepping backwards, and sending a private comm to Starscream that they are leaving, and they are leaving _now_.

Starscream comes running back over to them, Null rays active, and all guns turn to him. His protectiveness flares over the trinebond with murderous fury. Before Starscream can do any damage though, Skywarp grabs his elbow, grabs Thundercracker’s waist, and activates his warp drive. 

Optimus is surprised to get a grateful nod from the blue seeker just before the three vanish, only for a roar of engines outside of their surveillance area suggesting they didn’t warp far before flying off. He can see the bowl of treats in Thundercracker’s cockpit.

“Ah don’t git it, Prime. Why’d’ya let ‘em git away?” Optimus grins behind his facemask as he puts a steady servo on Ironhide’s shoulder, stopping him in the midst of shaking his helm disapprovingly.

“It’s Halloween and they followed the customs, Old Friend. It would have gone against Autobot code and my own morals to fight them here.”

“But-!”

“_Plus_, do you remember when we had all three in our brig that one time?” Ironhide raises an optic ridge, but nods for Optimus to continue. In turn, Optimus gestures for Ratchet to finish his line of reason.

“I carried out full scans on them - under Optimus’s orders, of course - and found out they’re a lot younger than we expected. Skywarp is the same age as the twins, and he’s the _middle_ creation!” 

“Thank you, Ratchet.” Scowling, Ironhide pushes Optimus’s arm off him.

“Their age don’t excuse their record! Ahm just sayin’, Prime, they’re old enough ta shoot us on th’ field, they’re old enough ta shoot us _off_ the field!” Laughing, optics crinkled like he knows a secret, Optimus pats his friends shoulder again, guiding him back to their cardboard Halloween suburb setup.

“No need to worry! I’m sure, if they were here for trouble, Jazz would have intervened before you did~.” All optics turn to the grinning TIC, one hand on his hip with the bowl of treats he’s serving perched in the crook of his elbow.

“Sure woulda! Mech, all they were doing was crackin’ jokes ‘bout our costumes and makin’ each other laugh! You saw ‘Warp when ya closed in on ‘em!” It takes Ironhide an astrominute to contemplate.

“So you were listening in on those rascals? Th’ whole time?” Jazz nods, looking proud of himself for having the most sensitive audials on the Ark, the ability to turn them up far beyond the normal range serving well when he’d heard Starscream’s rant when he’d first seen what they were doing. 

Bumblebee and Spike approach, holding their own bowls that have a few treats in from where they’ve been trick-or-treating in this cardboard construction.

“What were they saying? Did they like our costumes? Did they have a _favourite_?” It’s clear the minibot, caught up in the excitement of Halloween, wants to know, and, well, who is Jazz to disappoint?

“They sure did, lil’ Bee!” Jazz’s grin only grows, holding a servo towards the Dinobots.

“Our very own; Hocus Pocus Diplodocus!” 

Wheeljack’s small protest of  “He’s an Apatosaurus…” goes unheard underneath the good-natured laugh of the Autobot ranks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please kudos and comment! (^v^)/


	4. Down time.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rip Soundwave   
press f in chat

It was quiet.

_Too_ quiet.

Soundwave was used to constant bickering, from the cassettes linked up inside his compartment, or the troublemakers roaming around and causing complaints to flood in. 

He was used to Rumble and Frenzy either wrestling or shrieking as they ran away from their latest prank victim. He was used to Ravage slinking about the ventilation system, prompting many a complaint from Decepticon soldiers about her sudden appearance. He was used to Lazerbeak stealing little items for her nest-like construction, which again, prompted many angry complaints.

Buzzsaw was almost as bad, except he would resort to violence to tackle any mech for what he wanted. By this point, Soundwave kept a stock of polish and varnish ready for soldiers coming by to show off their birdbot scratches. Ratbat was his best behaved cassette, but in a sense, also the _noisiest_. He would constantly ask questions, query everything, talk about nothing in particular.

So the silence Soundwave currently found himself in was… Suspicious.

It either meant all 6 were mad at him for some reason, like that time he narrowly avoided a fatal injury because he wouldn’t _listen_ to them, or that something big was incoming.

Soundwave expected the latter. 

“_COMING THROUGH, GET OUT THE WAY!!!! ANGRY MECHS BEHIND US!_!!!”

“Very angry mechs!”

“Furious stampede!”

“WE’RE GONNA GET SLAAAA_AAAAAAGED!!!!_” Soundwave drops his helm into his servos. Those voices belong to none other than his troublemaking twin cassettes, and the most dangerous prankster on the Nemesis.

A team-up between Skywarp, Rumble, and Frenzy was to be feared. The pranks… The chaos… The _fallout_... Oh, Soundwave was not looking forwards to facing whoever has fallen victim to them this time. It seemed like multiple, if the pedes storming past the door were any suggestion. And there was something else underneath, some strange noises he couldn’t identify...

“Soundwave! Front and center, _immediately_!!!” The TIC stands up straight. Freezes. Promptly turns on his heel and swiftly walks out the second entrance of the control room before Megatron can enter the main door.

_Megatron_.

As if the Prank Trio™ targeting multiple mechs wasn’t bad enough, they included Megatron in their victim-list. 

Oh, Soundwave was _scrapped_. He quickens his steps down the rarely used corridor that links the control room straight to the recreational room. At least from there, he has many directions he can pick from - depending on where the angry mob is.

Rumble and Frenzy can deal with it themselves, this time. At least if they’re running around all day, they might actually recharge through the night. Hopefully. Hurrying into the rec room, Soundwave manages a nod towards Motormaster before there’s a bright flash of purple.

Skywarp has the cassette twins, one under each arm, and promptly drops them to the floor once he’s fully warped.

“Okay, you guys go grab the harmonicas, I’ll see if I can get Vortex into… Sta… Sis… Uh, hi, Soundwave!” Skywarp grins nervously, with good reason. The hoard of furious mechs storms past the rec room door, heading towards the airlock as that’s reasonably where Skywarp could have gone. All three of the insufferable prankers stare in fear at Soundwave and Motormaster, ready to be ratted out.

Motormaster makes a point of sipping his cube slowly and silently. It’s none of his business, and he’s not going to get involved. On the other hand, considering the cassettes are _his_, Soundwave is already involved.

“Query; What did you _do_?” Rumble and Frenzy glance at each other, faceplates stretching into wide grins before they look back to Soundwave.

“We introduced these lugnuts to music!”

“Yeah, Boss! In fact, they’re making it themselves!” The twins crack up into laughter, leaving Soundwave to narrow his visor at Skywarp instead, who seems to be attempting to locate a warp location where they _won’t_ be ambushed by their victims. 

“... We may have replaced recharging ‘cons body parts with human musical instruments, but like… Big…”

Ah. 

That explains the strange noises that accompanied those hunting for the pranksters.

“... Enquiry; _what_ instruments?” Rumble and Skywarp break into identical snickers. Frenzy grins with something Soundwave can only determine is pride.

“Ya can start by callin’ the coneheads the ‘trombone-heads’!” 

“An’- An’ we put v-violin strings along Blitzwing’s vents!” Rumble just manages to wheeze it out, before Skywarp laughs a little harder and adds - with much delight, to Soundwave’s horror - just how they had involved the leader of decepticons.

“You- You should see Me- _Megatron_!! Ahaha! We- We replaced his _midsection_ with an _**accordion**_!!!”

Oh frag. Oh _frag_. If they’re ever caught, they’re dead. Scratch that, Soundwave is pretty sure they’ll hide and then he’ll be caught. Unless he abandons them to their fate…

But that wouldn’t be very responsible, would it?

Then again… Skywarp was there… Skywarp was probably the mastermind behind this… And a key component… Henceforth, it was totally fine for the trio to take the blame _and punishment_ for their own actions.

“Troublemakers; responsible for themselves. Suggestion; Run.” Transforming into his boombox mode, Soundwave is completely out of view behind the almost empty energon dispenser. The doors to the rec room burst open, a _livid_ Dirge at the forefront, and he whips his gaze onto Skywarp, Rumble, and Frenzy.

“I FOUND THE SLAGGERS.” 

“Oh scrap! Scrap, scrap, _scrap_!!!!” Skywarp grabs the cassettes by the bar at the back of their helms and warps them out of there in a panic. Soundwave hopes he’s still somewhere in the base. 

Nobody even notices where he is, tucked safely behind the energon dispenser. Much to his luck, Motormaster is much too disinterested, already crushing his empty cube then making his way out of the rec room. Probably to warn the stunticons that Skywarp is on the loose, and has the twin cassettes in on it.

Once the coast is clear of mechs and music, Soundwave transforms back to root form and carefully makes his way to the observation deck. He has a rough idea of where Lazerbeak and Buzzsaw might be, considering Starscream wasn’t in the rampaging mob after Skywarp.

Astrotrain is on duty, a fact which has saved him from Skywarp’s humour - he’s generally the first target - and nods respectfully as Soundwave enters.

“I’m guessing you’re here to check up on your cassettes?” Silently, Soundwave nods. He knows he’ll be obeyed. He’s the third in command. 

“They left with Starscream a couple groons ago.” Astrotrain jostles with the control panel for a bit, trying to locate the second in command and access a satellite link to his location. Considering the curses and swears Astrotrain lets slip, Soundwave can determine that Starscream is moving too fast to pinpoint.

Widening the general area, Astrotrain is able to locate the sector Starscream, Lazerbeak, and Buzzsaw are in. Bringing it up on the screen, Soundwave relaxes a little as his suspicions are confirmed.

They’re _stunt flying_.

Starscream must realise he’s being observed because the communications line in the observation deck pings with his comm frequency. Reluctantly, with an expression of distaste, Astrotrain accepts it.

“_Who gave you the **right** to dare disrupt me, you spying, disgusting, scrap-worthy piece of-_”

“Soundwave did, you reformed Cessna.” Wisely, Astrotrain mutes the incoming comm, letting Starscream shriek and rage and insult as much as he likes without having to hear it himself. Most of the insults, he reckons, are probably about his triple-changer status.

Seemingly unoriginal, but Starscream can get creative sometimes.

It’s easy to tell when he’s run out of curses to spit, because Lazerbeak and Buzzsaw come back into view on the screen, having backed off when Astrotrain had decided to provoke the seeker. He unmutes the communication link.

“_And what, Soundwave, are you disturbing me for? This is my free time, I can use it as I like and you’re not dragging me back to that underwater prison!_”

“Soundwave; curious as to Lazerbeak and Buzzsaw’s whereabouts.”

“_Well congratulations, you’ve found them. What do you want, a rust stick?_”

Ah. Starscream is feeling particularly sarcastic today. Fantastic. Now Soundwave has to deal with him _and_ an enraged (and apparently musical) Megatron.

“Due warning; Your trinemate is on the loose.” For a moment, there’s no response. Buzzsaw even has to peck at Starscream’s wing as if to check he hasn’t fallen into stasis.

“_... Which one?_”

“Skywarp.”

“_Frag. How scrapped am I if I come back to base before the end of the earth week?_”

“...”

“_Answer me, Soundwave!_

“Skywarp; Included Megatron in ‘prank’…” There’s another long pause. Lazerbeak caws directly into Starscream’s audials, which Astrotrain snickers unkindly at.

“_If Megatron needs me at all for the next seven solar cycles, please inform him I’ll be in the safety of the Autobot brig._” Astrotrain laughs. His laughter tails off as Starscream changes course, heading towards the Ark’s coordinates.

“Wait, you’re serious.”

“_Is your audio circuitry flawed, or are you just stupid? **Skywarp** is loose. **Megatron** was targeted. The entirety of the Nemesis is going to be unsafe until both of them have calmed down. I’m out._” Before Starscream can dramatically shut off the communication link, Buzzsaw latches his beak onto Starscream’s wingtip and Lazerbeak scratches at him with one extended talon.

“_Oh, frag off! Fine! We’ll show him! Soundwave, your impertinent brats want to show you what we’ve been working on._” Soundwave’s visor flashes with surprise. The bird cassettes usually keep their flights hush-hush. They don’t talk about it, just let him know where they’ve been. 

Could it be that they’ve been practicing with Starscream just to show him when whatever-it-is was finished?

“Proceed.” Despite his disinterest, Astrotrain widens the focal point a little bit so they’ll be able to track and watch the entire stunt. It’s a little gesture that makes all the difference, and Soundwave gives him a tiny nod of gratitude. 

Starscream speeds up, but rather than leaving the cassettes behind, unable to keep up, he lets them ride the carved currents his wings make in the air. Slowly, they tuck in so that Lazerbeak rides the top of his left wing, so close she’s nearly clawing it, and Buzzsaw tucks under the right wing, lowering his helm so he doesn’t knock it against Starscream’s wing.

And then, Starscream starts to climb. As he does, he begins to bank sharply right, entering a roll. 

Soundwave’s spark clenches in its chamber, thinking for a second that Lazerbeak is going to be smacked out of the sky and Buzzsaw roasted by a jet engine. But his fears are misplaced. He watches, mesmerised, as they spin _with_ Starscream, sticking a perfect distance from his wings without magnetisation. 

They roll slowly, Starscream carefully controlling the speed, and fly upside down for approximately 70 astroseconds before slowly spinning back to flying normally. Before Soundwave can tell Buzzsaw and Lazerbeak how proud he is of their accomplishment, Starscream starts to roll again.

But it’s _faster_.

And it’s _vertical_. A vertical corkscrew.

Still, the cassettes stick to his wings, riding the moment and the jetstreams he easily carves for them to fly in so they aren’t buffeted by the wind force. Before they get too low to the ground, Starscream loops around, creating the perfect draft for Buzzsaw and Lazerbeak to exit the corkscrew in opposite directions. They meet back up, flying in formation, at the same height they originally descended from.

“_A little lackluster on the first roll, but that’s it. Your tinfoil turkeys have been pestering me for **2 stellar-cycles** trying to perfect this!_” It’s Starscream’s way of saying they’ve been practicing for 15 earth months, constantly dedicating their free time and effort to impressing their host.

Pride and joy wells up in his spark, and Soundwave resets his vocaliser before it wavers, like he knows it will if he speaks without doing so.

“Performance; Greatly enjoyed. Lazerbeak, Buzzsaw; have made me proud.” Lazerbeak preens under his praise, lifting her helm as if fluffing up like the earth birds too. Buzzsaw caws noisily, but it’s full of elation. 

“_I’ll send them back now._” Starscream commands the duo back to base, before starting off on his heading towards the Ark again. Astrotrain shutters his optics.

“You weren’t serious about the Autobot brig. Starscream, you _cannot_ be serious about the Autobot brig. Are you fraggin’ glitched?!”

“_I am entirely serious._” Starscream slams the communication line shut, and Astrotrain curses as he tries to force it back open to try and convince Starscream to come back, somehow. As much as he doesn’t like the seekers, every Decepticon knows their command will fall to ruin if Megatron is furious, Skywarp is on the loose, and Starscream _isn’t there_.

He’s the only one who can force Skywarp to endure punishment, and direct Megatron’s anger against the Autobots with a little snarking.

Not willing to wait around to see if Astrotrain is successful, Soundwave silently leaves the room. He still has two cassettes unaccounted for, after all. 

Sticking to the shadows of rarely used corridors, Soundwave makes his way back to his own quarters to check if Ravage or Ratbat are there, pokes his helm in on the rec room one more time, and even checks the Med-bay.

“Keep running, keep running, keep- Hey Soundwave! - keep running!!!” 

“Faster, holy frag, they’re catching up!” 

“Skywarp, help us, you buffoon!” 

“I can’t, I don’t have enough energon left to warp again!” As the trio run past again - unholy screeching as they argue - Soundwave simply steps back into a narrow corridor and allows the angry hoard following them keep up the chase.

Huh. They got Vortex after all.   
His helicopter blades are just harmonicas stacked end to end now.

Continuing on, Soundwave finds himself in the Storage units section. Bay 1 is empty, Bay 2 is still toxic (and glows green!) from a former seeker prank, and Bay 3 is… A mess, really. A complete and utter mess of empty boxes, containers that broke open in the crash to Earth, and scrap metal strewn across the floor.

It’s a perfect hiding place.

Slipping in, Soundwave immediately sees the soft, faint glow of a datapad behind a large box. He creeps in further, hoping to determine if his cassettes are there without disturbing whomever is reading. Leaning around a stack of iron pallets, Soundwave spots an outstretched leg, light blue in colour with a thruster at the end.

It suddenly occurs to him that Thundercracker hadn’t been caught up in Skywarp’s mess, or registered as leaving the ship. The Seeker is content, even his engines giving just a faint purr and- 

… Purr?

Then, there’s chirping. Not Seeker chirping either, the Vosnian language that the young command trine use. No, it’s the kind of chirp that Soundwave understands.

It’s Ratbat, asking a question like always. And that means the purring is probably Ravage.

“Hmm? The difference between shuttle wings and mine? Well, apart from sheer size, the materials used within the wings are a lot different. Shuttles have thicker cables, I have stronger struts. Shuttles wings are also heavy thanks to their exploration modifications. As a warbuild, mine are… Lighter. Flimsy. Better for maneuvering in the skies rather than a meteor field.”

More chirping, and Soundwave tries not to bury his faceplates in his servos. Ratbat always has the most innocently inappropriate questions to ask, and mentioning _Vos_? Not a wise idea. Soundwave hears Thundercracker pause, the atmosphere heavy for a moment.

“No, not- Not all Vosnians are warbuilds. Very few are, actually. It’s something only graduates of the Flight Academy were offered, and… Only a handful of us took it. Starscream urged me and Skywarp to consider it because we were aware that Vos was… How to phrase this…? A potential target?” 

Ratbat chirps another innocent question. He’s young - he doesn’t know any better - but it’s a very sore subject. 

_ “What happened to Vos?”_

Ravage snaps at Ratbat, but then settles back down and resumes purring. Soundwave peers a little closer and spots her laying across Thundercracker’s lap, her back gently being pet whilst Thundercracker seems to contemplate Ratbat’s question.

The Seekers don’t like to talk about it. The command trine especially do not like to talk about it. Starscream always flies into an enraged tantrum whenever it’s mentioned. Skywarp sulks and vanishes for a short period of time. 

Thundercracker does not speak.

Or at least, he never has before, and Soundwave wonders if maybe that’s because no-one has asked him directly before. (Nobody dares to, after Shockwave tried and Starscream flew all the way to Cybertron just to rip his optic out.)

“... I can… I can only give you a textbook answer. It was different for everyone involved.”

_ “What was it like for you?_

“Mhmm… Bad. Vos started bad, and it ended bad. I don’t like to think about it, it brings about bad reflux. _Really_ bad reflux. Once, I- uh… Destroyed the entire quarters section of the Deception command training course.”

Soundwave’s visor turns off for a moment. He remembers that. Or at least, he remembers coming in to monitor the newest and youngest applicants of the command training center, being in the canteen, and suddenly feeling the walls and floors and ceilings _vibrate_, and the entire quarters area being razed to the ground.

They had thought it an Autobot bomb and instantly relocated the command training course.

… A sonic boom certainly explained the rippling of solid objects and the implosion of a whole building.

_ “Okay! Can we keep reading about shuttles now?”_ Thundercracker vents a soft, amused huff, tapping at a datapad to brighten the screen again.

“Of course. Where were we?” He finds their place and reads on, calmly answering any questions Ratbat has about the difference in Shuttle builds and Seeker builds, how it feels to fly, if carrying objects makes them feel heavier in the sky, and why shuttles get bigger when they transform into jet mode, but Seekers get smaller.

Any other mech would get tired of answering, either ignoring Ratbat or telling him to frag off and let Soundwave deal with the upset cassetticon afterwards. But Thundercracker answers every question the best he can, giving detailed explanations, and sounding like he’s _enjoying_ the interaction.

But inevitably, they come to the end of the datapad. 

_ “Aww! I like reading with you! Why do datapads have to end…?”_ A soft vent.

“So we can start a new one. If the datapad never ended, we wouldn’t find out about new things or different subjects in other datapads.”

_ “Then can we start another~?”_

“I suppose so. I hid some in that box over by the door. Why don’t you pick out the next one? Maybe fiction, this time?” With an elated chirrup, Ratbat flutters clumsily over to the mentioned box. A ‘prrip!’ of surprise escapes when he spots Soundwave stepping out behind the stack of boxes.

_ “Soundwave!”_ The little cassette nuzzles gently against the mech he recognises as his creator, before picking up a fiction datapad and carrying it back to Thundercracker. Soundwave nods as if to say hello, and Thundercracker raises a hand likewise.

“Joining us?” He certainly hadn’t expected to be invited, but…

“Get to Bay 2! They won’t dare follow us in there!”

“Are ya kiddin’, ‘Warp?! We’ll be glowin’ green fer eons!”

“I’d rather glow green than get slagged. See you on the scrapheap, Rumble!”

“Wait, no! I’m coming with!”

As the sounds from outside come and go, Soundwave nods. Better to hide in here and avoid all that. Maybe for the whole week. There’s a clear spot right next to Thundercracker, between him and a large storage box of nuts and bolts.

Settling down, neither of them mind the proximity. Ravage wriggles forwards so she’s spread across both of their laps, then circles around a few times before flopping back down so she can demand scritches under her chin and behind her ears again. Thundercracker obliges with a tiny smile.

Ratbat squeaks in excitement, fluttering overhead for a few seconds before settling on Soundwave’s helm with his wings spread out so it looks like Soundwave is wearing a bat-shaped helmet. Once they’re all comfortable, Thundercracker taps the datapad to bring it online.

“Chapter one, The evening that changed everything. It begins in the noble metaforests of my home, their cold steel trunks and fleeting aluminum leaves ever overshadowing the ground spread before them. As Gliese 163 rises over the distant horizon, the shadows stretch longer, burying my village in the darkness it is so well known for. But change is in the air, and with every passing moment-”

Soundwave shutters off his optics, listening. It’s wonderfully peaceful, and the story is one he knows very well, he used to read it to Ravage and Lazerbeak when they were only younglings. But he could never read it as well as Thundercracker does now, breathing life into the story and giving creation to the characters.

For once, Ratbat is quiet. It’s an amazing feat, but he listens intently, attention captured with awe in his field. Little noises still escape when he trills in excitement, chirps with happiness, or squeaks with anticipation, but there’s none of his constant questioning.

Perhaps Soundwave will have to take up reading again.

“... Gliese 163 flickers… Our darkness only- only grows, but this time we… We run fr’m it… Th’ ‘mergency shuttle powers... Up… Sl’wly…” Halfway through chapter 14, Soundwave brings his optics back online and glances to the side. 

Ravage is snoozing, purring steadily. Ratbat is deep in recharge, tiny pips escaping as he vents. And now it looks like Thundercracker is following them into recharge. That’s not hard to believe. They’ve been down here a long time, and Thundercracker has probably been here longest if he had some idea of what Skywarp was going to do.

Gently, Soundwave shuffles down, lowering his shoulders. As expected, a tired helm plonks against it, on the verge of recharge. Soundwave simply rests his own head back - careful not to squash Ratbat against the wall - and initiates his own recharge sequence.

May as well.   
They’re stuck here until Skywarp has had his fill of mischief and Megatron cools off anyways.

(They don’t even stir when later, Lazerbeak finds them, she and Buzzsaw settling on either side of the little group.)  
(Thundercracker does stir when Rumble and Frenzy - slightly glowing - join them seeking shelter, but he only moves a leg to give them more room and winds back down into recharge.)

This is exactly how Megatron finds them groons later, having been hunting down Skywarp who had _somehow_ refuelled his warping ability. But rather than storming in and demanding to know the location of Thundercracker’s trinemates and taking Rumble and Frenzy to the brig for punishment, he switches off the bay lights, and closes the door to leave them in peace.

Not before taking a screencapture though. _That_, he can use as leverage later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please kudos and comment~!


	5. Reflux, recharge.

The light of Earth’s moon was weak, compared to the brightness of the two moons circling Cybertron. It didn’t even permeate the water below, the ocean an inky blackness that swirled and crashed around the Nemesis exit tower.

It wasn’t supposed to be extended when no one was on duty, and all mechs were supposed to be in recharge thanks to this ridiculous solar-lunar cycle and how it affected their Cybertronian systems.

But Starscream was still awake.

He sat on the very edge of the exit tower, his legs overhanging the ocean churning below. Occasionally, a large wave would crash against the column and Starscream would feel droplets of swash land on him, kicking them off to rejoin the ocean once more.

Earth was fascinating. Earth was _disgusting_.

All Starscream wanted to do was go home. But he couldn’t. Cybertron was in ruin, Vos had been razed to the ground, and his home? The palace he had lived in until Flight Academy? It didn’t exist anymore. He knew where it should be, where it once stood with walls of a Cybertronian metal that was patterned like Earth’s marble, that glowed gently like Earth’s moon, supports of a component similar to Earth’s stone…

But Earth’s marble, moon, and stone could not replace the home he so dearly loved. Even if he were to rebuild it when the Decepticons won and returned to Cybertron, it still wouldn’t be _his_ home.

The mechs, femmes, Cybertronians, drones, and creations alike that had made it home were gone. They were deactivated. Terminated. As far as Starscream knew, he and his trine were the only ones from the palace to have survived.

Turning his optics back to the moon, Starscream vents a weary sigh. There’s no point in longing for something that doesn’t exist anymore, he’s never going to find it. Those days of peace are gone, his family unit is shattered, and his home is-

“Whatcha doing?” Starscream almost falls straight off the exit tower at the interrupting question accompanied by the bright flash of purple.

“How dare you, Skywarp! I cam up here to be alone!” Skywarp raise one optical ridge with a sly grin, hands on his hips.

“Aha! So, I interrupted your monologuing?”

“Mo-?! I am _not_! I simply… Am enjoying the view.” Shuttering his vents, Skywarp rolls his optics and plonks himself next to Starscream, pushing him aside roughly but not unkindly with a murmur of ‘shove over’.

“You hate Earth, ‘Screamer. There’s no way you’re enjoying the view. If anything, you’re probably insulting it in your processor.” Starscream narrows his eyes at Skywarp, his field echoing irritation. Skywarp only grins, swinging his legs a little more purposely than Starscream had been, and knocks their shoulders together, wings brushing in a comforting manner.

“I’m right, aren’t I~?”

“You’re annoying, that’s what you are.”

“But you looooove me!”

“I _highly_ doubt it.”

“You looooooove me!”

“Skywarp, stop messing around!”

“We wouldn’t be trine if you didn’t love me ‘n’ TC!” Rolling his optics, Starscream gives Skywarp a friendly shove, trying to hide the small smile on his lips.

“Yes, yes, we’re trine, I get it already!” There’s a moment of silence, where Starscream stares at the moon whilst Skywarp watches the crashing waves, genuinely enjoying them. As Starscream’s thoughts start to turn to darker places, a helm plonks against his pauldron.

“That means you looooove me~.” A snort of laughter escapes, and that sets Skywarp off giggling, which only drags Starscream into a cascade of snickers. He reaches out and pinches Skywarp’s vent.

“Sometimes I wonder why~.”

“Uhh, maybe because we’re practically co-creations? C’mon ‘Screamer, we’ve known each other since I was created!”

“If I knew then what a nuisance you’d be, I’d have kept my distance~.” It’s a gentle tease, one Skywarp is used to, and he fakes a scandalous gasp. But rather than going into a false rant about tragedy, abandonment, and betrayal, he takes a moment to observe Starscream’s field.

Underneath the amusement Skywarp has managed to bring out, there’s still an undertone of upset, and it’s strongest in the trinebond.

“I’m glad you didn’t. You’re the only family I have left. You ‘n’ TC, you’re all I have left from Vos.” Starscream snaps his faceplates back to Skywarp, optics wide and bright.

“Warp…” Uncharacteristically, Skywarp rests his servos in his lap, examining them with a sad smile.

“I know that I’d be dead without you guys because we’re trine, but… I think even if we hadn’t been, I wouldn’t want to function without you anyways. You’re my co-creation, my _brother_, almost like a twin. Except you’re older, but, y’know. I don’t remember a day without you. I don’t think I _could_ function if suddenly, the best friend that had been there all my life was _**gone**_...”

“I’m here, Skywarp.” Skywarp takes a deep vent, looking up to the stars with his optics shuttered off, before he smiles at Starscream with an air of serenity that only comes to him in these moments.

“I know. I still got you and TC. You’re my family, an’ that’s never gonna change.” His smile turns into a grin, and he flops against Starscream’s side, their wings clanging together and his helm resting on Starscream’s shoulder.

“You’re not getting rid of me if you _try_~” Starscream takes a moment, looking down at Skywarp in contemplation, before he relaxes and rests his helm atop Skywarp’s, fondly flickering his wings so they flutter comfortingly against Skywarp’s.

“I would never. Vos is gone, I know that. Our home is rubble and ruin. But I have my spark. I have Thundercracker, I have you, and that’s all I need.” He vents silently, just enjoying the presence of his trinemate, the friend he’s had since they were first introduced, the mech he considers a co-creation.

It doesn’t take too long before Skywarp fidgets again.

“So, what’s got you out here, moping in the middle of recharge cycle?” Starscream clicks his glossa. Of course Skywarp would know something was still unsettling him. He’s the most sensitive to the trinebond, after all.

“I… Had a bad reflux. About Vos.” Wings brush against his own gently, motioning for him to carry on, whilst also providing silent comfort. Starscream’s mouth feels dry. He grasps for the right words, letting himself be distracted by the frothing waves below for an astrosecond.

“Did you- Did you ever realise that we’ve never known what it’s like to live… Without war? Vos was always peaceful but… But it was still gripped in _war_.” Skywarp pulls a faceplate, shuffling uncomfortably against Starscream’s side.

“Not really? I mean, sure, we had rations, and there were the occasional sirens, and sometimes we had to run to the shelters, and imports lessened as time went on… Ah. Oh. I think I understand now.”

“_Exactly_. We’ve never had a day without war, especially not now we’re so involved.” The silence between them, for the first time is eons, is uncomfortable. The trinebond shivers as Skywarp pulls away from Starscream to look him in the optic, although Starscream averts his gaze to the darkness on the horizon.

“What brought this on? You’ve never questioned this before. I mean, you’re the second in command, ‘Screamer! We’re _good_ at war! We’re the command trine for a reason! I don’t think you of all mechs would think about this if someone hadn’t said something.”

“The Autobots.”

“Huh?” Starscream swings his legs at half the pace of Skywarp’s, the repetitive motion helping to calm the buzz in his circuits.

“The Autobots. When I was taking shelter from _you_ in their brig~.” He pokes at Skywarp’s side, prompting a small laugh as the trinebond clears again, easing the atmosphere and crossing the small distance between them.

This time, he initiates the contact, resting his helm on Skywarp’s shoulder. He doesn’t normally do this, but he has a lot on his processor at the moment, and some of it _hurts_. He needs this contact, this comfort, this reassurance.

“You missed a _great_ time~! A whole 5 solar cycles of pranks and fun and chaos! Well, until TC sold me out to Megatron. I have no idea _what_ Megatron had that could embarrass TC into giving away my location - maybe an image capture or somethin’ - but Ol’ Buckethead really wasn’t as angry as I thought he would have been.”

“Yes, I… I did hear about you’d done. ‘Warp, you are one _insane_ mech. If you weren’t so valuable to the cause, you’d be in the scrapheap by now.” Skywarp grins, big and mischievous, and Starscream’s spark skips a beat.

“Do _not_ mistake that as having immunity.”

“Oh, I’m gonna.”

“Skywarp, don’t you dare!”

“My next prank is _so_ much bigger! You’re gonna love it!” 

“Skywaaaarp! Noooo!” The elongated screech - more of a whine - just makes Skywarp laugh until he flops onto his back, dragging Starscream with him, and they’re both lying in the exit tower looking up at the stars, bathed in moonlight.

“What did the Autobots say, huh?” Skywarp’s voice is quiet, but the night is near-silent so it’s easy to hear.

“... Asked if I knew what I was fighting for. Asked me _why_ I chose the Decepticons. Apparently, “get slagged” isn’t an appropriate answer, because they then tried to convince me of the ‘evils’ we do. Big deal, I _know_ about all that. I don’t think they’ve realised we’re returning to the original Decepticon cause, though.” Starscream pauses. Skywarp nudges him.

“There’s more, ain’t there?”

“Mhm. That’s when they brought up peaceful negotiations, something about how we were unnecessarily prolonging the war, as if _they_ aren’t fighting as well!”

“Wow! That’s rude! Sometimes I think the ‘Bots are more trigger-happy than us! Like, I’m literally just tryna get some energon in my tank, and suddenly they’re crashing through walls and shooting at me?! They know we gotta fuel too, right?!”

“Exactly! I _knew_ you’d understand, ‘Warp!” 

“Yeah, I got all that, but what’s that gotta do with your bad reflux?” Sitting back up, Starscream notes that the moon is lowering in the sky, enough that the reflection in the water is no longer distorted by the waves crashing against the Nemesis exit pillar.

“It was an offhand comment, I think. As the Autobots left, the SiC said something about_ “I wouldn’t expect a Decepticon raised in war to know how to live without it”_. Definitely intended as an insult, but it was more a truth than anything else. ‘Warp, we- we don’t _know_ what to do without war.”

“And?” 

“So what do we do when the war is over?! We have no civilian skills, no political experience, and _not a single talent_ that can get us by when we return to Cybertron!” Amusement pulses over the trinebond, and Starscream whips his helm to Skywarp with a mix of confusing and _hurt_, because this is serious, and Skywarp is laughing at him??? 

Very quickly, Skywarp sits back up and runs a reassuring hand over the flat of Starscream’s wing.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be insensitive.” He pauses to think about his words, looking up at the sky, in the direction Cybertron would be.

“I just think you’re taking it too seriously~. This war is far from over, and even then, we gotta _rebuild_ Cybertron~. Any mech can learn to weld some buildings, and we can do some pretty accurate flying to build tall infrastructure. They’re gonna need us for that!”

“And after that?”

“To the pit with anything after that! We can retire~! We can soar through the buildings we made ourselves, race around Cybertron with no borders, and tell our epic war stories to younglings! They’ll _flock_ to hear our harsh battles from the former command trine!” Skywarp makes large gestures as he talks, his whole frame betraying his excitement and enthusiasm, and Starscream laughs as he bats a servo away from his faceplates.

“Alright, alright~! You might be a little shortsighted-”

“Hey!”

“- But maybe you’re right about things sorting themselves out.”

“Of course I am! You watch, ‘Screamer, we’ll win this war, rebuild Cybertron, make our home back on our own planet, and everything will fall into place. Maybe we’ll even have Autobot prisoners to do the nasty stuff!”

“By _Primus_, I hope so. I certainly don’t want to have to clean out the lower levels of Kaon. There’s scrap down there that’s been _fermenting_ for lightyears.” Skywarp laughs, the sound echoing out into the night, although the colours of dawn start to seep into the sky. Starscream smirks as he pulls himself to his pedes, offering Skywarp a hand up.

“Come on. We’d better get a few more groons of recharge before today's raid.” A bright flash of purple and a slightly disorientating warp later, Starscream calls the exit tower back down to where it should be, locking the systems again. He can feel weariness seeping through his circuits, the bad reflux having rudely snapped him out of a full recharge.

Skywarp rocks on his thrusters, quietly waiting. Once everything is returned to how it should be when the moon is in the sky, they start walking back together. Skywarp seems to walk to a rhythm stuck in his processor, a little skip in his step and the occasional hum in his engine. 

The corners of Starscream’s lips flicker upwards at the calm joy coming from him over the trinebond, and the comforting warmth of Thundercracker’s tired but content presence. He must have just come out of recharge and is waiting for them. 

“Hey, ‘Screamer?” In the silence of the corridor, even Skywarp’s whisper sounds loud, but Starscream can’t find himself caring about anyone else right now. 

“Yes?”

“How _did_ you break out the Autobot brig?” The smile on Starscream’s faceplates stretches into a devious grin.

“Remember back when we were younglings and you thought painting on the walls in nanite-enhanced energon then setting it _alight_ would make it glow different colours?” Skywarp freezes in place, his faceplates aghast with a cold terror. His guilty whisper is full of dread.

“I almost brought the whole palace down. I was so scared my creators were going to have me _recycled_!” Starscream barely holds back a cackle that can only be described as evil, entering the code to enter their quarters.

“All you did was laugh at me! And then Novasong and Moonglow laughed _too_! You really do take after them.” Skywarp flickers his wings in greeting at Thundercracker, who sits on the berth waiting for his trinemates to return. The three clamber together, tightly tucked together like they always are, with Skywarp against the wall, wings slotted between the berth and wall, Thundercracker in the middle on his front, and Starscream on the outer edge, wings off the edge of the berth. It’s _comfortable_, it’s warm, and they’re all together.

Skywarp raises an optic ridge and lifts his helm to peer over Thundercracker, who’s already re-initiated his recharge sequence.

“Wait, what does my exploding art mistake have to do with your jailbreak?” Starscream’s wings wriggle in pure, evil glee, a high-pitched snicker escaping his vocaliser.

“Let’s just say the Autobots should have _never_ given me three cubes of energon a day~.” Skywarp snorts, trying to stay quiet with his trinemate in consideration, but then Thundercracker - _astroseconds_ before he drops into recharge - whispers;

“Boom…” 

He’s abruptly startled awake again when both Skywarp and Starscream erupt into laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please kudos and comment~!


	6. A seasonal sprinkling of Christmas chaos!

“No.”

“Starscream, that was not a request. You _will_ investigate the Autobot activity.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I order you to-!”

“NO.” Megatron glares at his officer, feeling heat searing in his fusion cannon. It’s getting harder to fight the urge to use it the more Starscream disobeys.

“Starscream.”

“_Megatron_.” Starscream has his arms crossed over his cockpit, glaring back and trying to look down his nasal ridge at Megatron. It would be intimidating, if not for the fact that Megatron was taller.

And a former gladiator. That helped.

Starscream loses intimidation points for his entourage as well. Whilst the SiC poses with slight aggression, cocky and stubborn, his wingmates are… Not so confident in disobeying the Decepticon leader.

Skywarp is visibly wincing, venting through his gritted denta. Thundercracker’s wings are low, his servos wringing uncomfortably around each other in front of him. They’re the very picture of _pitiful_.

“The Autobots-”

“Don’t _need_ observation! This is just another stupid human celebration, like that Halloween one!”

“And how can you be so sure of that?” Starscream raises an optic ridge sarcastically.

“Are you kidding? Are you seriously this dumb, or are you just acting like this to infuriate me?”

“_Starscream!_” Feeling his fusion cannon heat up in response, Megatron takes a calming vent, pinching his nasal bridge as he watches Skywarp grab Starscream’s arm, ready to warp him out if Megatron fired, and Thundercracker swat the back of Starscream’s helm with a hiss to behave himself.

“What?! Our great leader can’t even manage his own chronometer, and you expect me to be _placid_ about this?!”

His… Chronometer? 

Megatron whirs his cannon back down, directing his energy to checking his chronometer. It’s certainly functioning, and for a moment, he’s not sure what Starscream means. And then, he realises.

By the human’s ridiculous calendar, it’s December 25th. It’s exactly one solar cycle, one _year_, since Skywarp crammed every hallway of the Nemesis full of pine trees. Or ‘Christmas’ trees, as he called them.

Hook had been busy for _vorns_, pulling pine needles out of every joint, socket, and gasket. The one battle they had attended after that event had ended in the Decepticons absolutely _embarrassing_ themselves, thanks to pine needle related malfunctions.

Bah. ‘Christmas’.  
A frivolous human ceremony.

One that, obviously, the soft-sparked Autobots would be partaking in.

“I know exactly what day it is, Starscream! That does not change my orders.” He growls it out, watching as Starscream’s scowl deepns.

“This is a waste of my trine’s time and Decepticon resources.” Megatron’s optics narrow. Starscream is hiding something, something that will undoubtedly cause trouble for their forces. Considering what happened _last year_, and how Starscream and Thundercracker were most certainly involved with Skywarp’s prank, Megatron isn’t going to let it slide.

“And what, my scheming, conniving second in command, were you planning on doing otherwise?” Starscream’s optics widen and his wings flicker upwards, taken aback with a guilty expression. 

“Uh. Nothing. Nothing at all, mighty Megatron.”

“You wouldn’t be so guilty if it were nothing.”

“There- There are no other plans!” Megatron raised an optic ridge. Starscream fidgeted. Megatron tapped his canon against his hip impatiently. Starscream winced. In the background, Skywarp takes several small steps backwards, trying to escape the room unnoticed, whilst Thundercracker stands stock still with a far too serious expression.

Seekers are so _easy_ to read.

“What. Were. You. Planning?” He takes a threatening step towards them, pushing Starscream aside - and letting Starscream throw a tantrum about it - to get some answers.

Skywarp lets out a nervous laugh before he pats Thundercracker on the shoulder to wish him luck, and selfishly warps himself out of there. Thundercracker’s wings jerk upwards at the realisation he’s been abandoned to Megatron’s interrogation before drooping low as Megatron comes closer.

“Thundercracker. Tell me, before I lose my _patience_, what your trine had planned.”

“We were… Uh… Going somewhere.”

“Where?” It’s less of a question and more of a demand, reinforced by the rough hand that lingers threateningly on Thundercracker’s shoulder. Metal digits dig into the seam, not enough to be painful, but enough to make a point.

Thundercracker goes to say something, stops himself, and glances over to Starscream. He grinds his denta closed again, and there’s a faint click as he shuts off his vocaliser. Starscream smirks as Megatron glances back at him.

It’s either trine loyalty, or Starscream has something over his trinemates that not even Megatron’s threats can break through. Probably the former, though. Starscream might have plenty of blackmail against other Decepticons, but he’s never used any against his own trine.

“If there is a problem with your vocaliser, I can always call Hook to-”

“North Pole.” Shuttering his optics, Megatron releases his hold. Well, that was easy.

“Thundercracker!” Starscream screeches, more annoyed than anything, but even he just vents a huff, crosses his arms, and flicks a few insulting words through his wings. The blue seeker returns an apology, but tacks on a couple insults of his own.

The rapid flickering, twitching, and tilting of their wings is too fast for Megatron to keep track of, and impossible to translate, so he taps his cannon against his leg impatiently as the two slow their argument to a halt.

“If you are _quite_ finished, you are going to tell me exactly why you planned to go to this… ‘North Pole’.” Shuffling his pedes, Starscream averts his optics with faint embarrassment, his field giving off the feeling of childish foolishness.

“Revenge.” 

“... Revenge?”

“Yes.”

“On _whom_? What sane mech would be located at the northern axis of this planets rotation?” Starscream mumbles something, and Megatron steps closer to him to hear him properly.

“Repeat that.”

“Notamech.”

“Starscream.”

“It’s not a mech! It’s- It’s a fleshling creature, alright?! There’s a fleshling creature that lives at the North Pole, and was supposed to lavish us with gifts last night, but _didn’t_! So, we’re going to get revenge!” 

“I’m only going because Star ‘n’ Sky need supervision.” Pinching his nasal ridge with a heavy vent, his sigh sounding tired and exasperated, Megatron sinks back into his throne and taps his pede on the floor as his processer computes this.

“You, the second in command of the Decepticons, are dragging your trine to the Northern hemisphere - one of the most _dangerous_ biomes for fliers - because you want revenge on some fleshing that humans fantasize about.”

“It’s not fantasy!!! Human younglings all over the globe wake up on this day to _presents_! They get whatever they want from Santa by putting a large 'stocking', a pede-covering out the night before!” 

“And this… ‘Santa’... Mysteriously makes it around the entire globe in one night?” Starscream sneers, as if he’s the one making sense and Megatron is speaking pure nonsense. 

“Timezones exist, Megatron.” Sinking into his throne, Megatron considers either retiring or throwing Starscream into the brig. Surely the Autobots could be investigated by Skywarp and Thundercracker alone, considering how likely it was that they were just taking part in another frilly human ceremony.

One that Starscream seemed wholly convinced was real.

“You expect me to believe the disgusting fleshling creatures of this planet, with their _primitive_ technology, have a way of giving - for no _reason_ \- a gift to every human youngling in 24 hours?”

“Just one human, Megatron! He’s called Santa.” Proudly, Starscream preens and gives Megatron a smug smirk, trying to look down on him. Megatron sighs again, sliding his servo down his face.

“I would expect this from Skywarp, not from you.”

“Wha-?! Don’t insult me, Megatron! I’ve done my research!” Exasperated optics stare dimly at Starscream until he shuffles uncomfortably, resetting his vocaliser with a minute burst of static.

“Well, I - I _suppose_ it does sound ludicrous when spoken aloud… But there is evidence! And as a scientist, evidence determines what is real!” 

For a sparkbeat, all is silent. Starscream is still standing proud, Megatron still debates giving up this entire war just so he doesn’t have to deal with this, and Thundercracker lingers near a wall, rocking slightly on his thrusters out of sheer boredom.

“Starscream, just take your trine and investigate the Autobot activity.”

“But-!”

“_That is an order!_!!! Just- Just do it, Starscream.” It’s not quite begging, but Megatron’s tone of voice suggests he is extremely close to it. Well. Begging, or snapping and killing them. Starscream’s wings deflate, readying an argument.

“Star…” A black servo wraps around his upper arm and Starscream glances to the side to catch Thundercracker shaking his helm at him, advising him not to protest.

“... Fine. But we get to do whatever we want afterwards, when the Autobots have finished shooting at us for interrupting their human games!” 

“_Finally_!” Megatron growls the word out before sitting up straighter, like the imposing leader he’s supposed to be rather than the exhausted mech Starscream makes him feel like.

“Soundwave detected multiple Autobot signatures gathering around one certain area in New York. Whilst it may be, as you suspect, a frivolous human ceremony, there is also the chance the Autobots are using the timing to cover up some kind of weapon or plan.”

“Oh, _please_, they’re not that clever.” 

“Not so stupid, either, Starscream! Or are you forgetting that the original Autobot forces used the annual Crystal Song Ceremony in Helix Gardens to set up anti-seeker weapons in Praxus?” A quiet tension falls over then. Starscream lowers his helm, optics dimming. He’d lost many good soldiers to those weapons, some of those he considered friends.

“I remember, Lord Megatron.” A servo lands on his shoulder, almost too gentle to be Decepticon.

“Their names will not be forgotten. Their deactivation will not be in vain.” Starscream lifts his helm to meet Megatron’s optics again, understanding _why_ Megatron would bring up such a sore subject.

It’s his own way of warning the seekers to be careful.

“We won’t underestimate the Autobots, ever again. New Prime or not, they’re still the reason we’ve had to fight for survival so long!”

“Good. Find Skywarp and depart within the groon. You have permission to refuel before you leave.” 

“As you command, Megatron!” Saluting, Starscream bolts before Megatron realises his mistake.

‘Permission to refuel’ could mean anything. Perhaps, Megatron thinks, he should have rephrased that. Knowing Starscream, he’ll take advantage of it and fill his tank to the brim, whilst Skywarp may help himself to the high grade… 

Luckily, they have a third trinemate. One with more common sense than the other two combined.

“... I’ll limit them to a cube each. Star, wait up.” Thundercracker takes off after his trineleader, no doubt feeling as exasperated as Megatron looks, having to be his trines impulse control. 

Megatron vents one more time, long and slow, before activating his comm link.

“Soundwave. What constitutes as a ‘gift’ and where on this infernal planet can I find three?”

Sounwave’s digits hesitate over the control panel for a sparkbeat, caught off guard by Megatron’s request. 

It’s only when he witnesses the command trine coming out of the rec room - Thundercracker dragging Skywarp behind him by the handle under his wings, and pushing a Starscream laden with three cubes with his other servo - no doubt heading to their quarters to refuel together that he understands what Megatron is asking him.

His visor brightens with a soft light, and his mouthpiece shifts upwards ever so slightly. 

“Soundwave; will locate suitable gifts. Trine; Will be in their quarters, if Megatron wishes to search too.” There’s a beat of embarrassed hesitation.

_ “Who- Who said it was for those idiots?”_ Soundwave does not answer. His judgemental silence must get through to the leader because there’s a grumble over the comm followed by a quiet order.

_ “Meet me at the exit tower before the glitches realise we’ve gone.”_

“Affirmative.” Soundwave glances over the security screens once more, making sure the trine _is_ heading to their quarters, and not the exit tower. Before he tracks them though, he notices Rumble and Frenzy dropping out of a vent near the rec room.

Before he can comm them and tell them to _behave_, a bright explosion of some smokey substance comes from inside, sending red, green and gold glittering scattering as far as the hallway walls. Rumble and Frenzy collapse into laughter. 

Then, from the open rec room doors, a _furious_ Ravage and Buzzsaw emerge, both pasted in the glitter mix, covered in tinsel, and definitely not feeling the Christmas spirit. As his two enraged creations attack their brothers, Soundwave covers his faceplates with a servo.

Ah, cassettes.   
He wondered if humans sometimes felt this way looking after their charges.

Fortunately, Lazerbeak and Ratbat were not in the room or part of the twins mischief, and Soundwave locates them recharging atop the warm pipes in the steam room. As he’s watching, Ravage - in all her glittery misery - slinks into the same room and curls up against a generator. 

Buzzsaw is still chasing the twins through the Nemesis. He leaves a glittery trail in his furious wake.

Soundwave watches the usual antics and contradicting calm scene of his cassettes and thinks, spark warm and radiating, that maybe Megatron’s idea of gifts isn’t such a glitched idea after all.

Glancing back to the screen encompassing the door to the seekers quarters, Soundwave watches Thundercracker enter the code to get in, one servo still gripping Skywarp who most likely whines about wanting high grade, whilst Starscream stands a little further off, sneakily taking sips from each of the three cubes.

When Thundercracker turns back around to usher him in, his optics narrow and he reaches out to swat Starscream, at which point Skywarp jabs the ‘close’ button on the door, and grins as Thundercracker walks right into the closed panel.

“... Seekers; almost as troublesome as cassettes…” Soundwave shakes his helm, but can’t deny that it’s thoroughly entertaining watching them squabble, Starscream throwing a partly drunk cube at Thundercracker to distract him from kicking Skywarp into the once-again-opened room.

As soon as the door locks behind them, Soundwave heads to the exit tower.

As soon as they’re inside, Thundercracker snatches Starscream’s cube to top up his own and Skywarp’s, not letting his trineleader get away with stealing some of _their_ precious fuel. The deadpan optic contact he holds the entire time makes Starscream shudder guiltily.

“What? I was running low.”

“We’re _all_ running low, Star. Even with this, we’ll only be at 40%.”

“I- I’m your trineleader! I get more by default!” Skywarp, having chugged down half his cube in one go, points a digit at Starscream, grinning cunningly.

“Yeah, but me ‘n’ TC got outlier abilities we need t’ fuel. By that logic, we get the same amount each.” As Starscream flounders, his trinemates smugly drink their own cubes. Starscream flicks his wings at them insultingly, but does nothing more than sip at his own energon.

“So did either of you two get our intended coordinates after I left?” Skywarp lounges back in a pile of stolen blankets and pillows, peering at his trinemates through the pink haze of the tiny amount of energon he has left.

Thundercracker and Starscream look to each other with identical expressions of ‘oh slag’. Skywarp bursts out laughing.

“You didn’t?! Really?! Oh, ‘Screamer, TC, I am _so_ disappointed~.” His tone is anything but disappointed, his amusement thrumming across the trine bond. Starscream sneers.

“Just search for the most frivolous Christmas event in New York. That’s where they’ll be.”

“How’dyou know that?”

“Firstly, because Megatron did mention New York, secondly, because they’re _Autobots_. Participating in disgusting human customs is what they do.” None of them dare to mention last year, when the Autobots had celebrated Christmas at the Ark, their decorations and activities spilling out the perimeter, meaning the trine had looked on jealously until _someone_ had the bright idea to fill the Nemesis with Christmas too.

(Thundercracker had started it by stealing the Autobot’s Christmas tree. Skywarp had taken his suggestion too literally and _filled_ the Nemesis with Christmas. Specifically, spruce and pine trees that he and Starscream had ripped from a nearby forest.)

“I’ve found two potential sites. Dyker Heights Christmas Lights down 11th to 13th Avenues, or a charity Christmas event at The Rockefeller Plaza.” Thundercracker lists it off monotonously, then shutters his optics with surprise.

“Local sources say the Rockefeller Plaza Christmas tree is one of the best in the world.” At a knowing glance and grin from Skywarp, Thundercracker glares back and tacks on;

“And no, I’m _not_ going to steal this one.”

“Urgh! How narcissistic! As if anything on Earth could compare to Cybertron!” Starscream tosses his empty cube away, perching on the edge of a desk with one leg slung over the other, resting his elbow on them and plonking his chin into his servo.

“It’ll definitely be that one though.” Finishing his own cube and crumpling the remains into a tight ball, Skywarp chimes in.

“Oh pit yeah, it’s a wide open space so they can actually fit, and it’s a _charity event_. That’s like, synonymous with ‘Autobot gathering’.” He flicks the crumpled ball of energon cube over to Thundercracker, who catches it out of sheer practice and chucks it in the bin behind him, followed by his own empty cube.

“I still don’t fancy getting shot down over either of those locations. They’ll be crowded with humans, and getting that squishy mush out from my joints?” His entire system shudders in revolt, wings pinched together tightly at the disgusting thought of dripping with squashed organic bodies.

Starscream’s faceplates mirror his disgust, and Skywarp mutters a ‘yuck’ as he squirms uncomfortably. Then, suddenly, he bolts into an upright siting position.

“What if we didn’t get shot though!?” 

“... Is your processor malfunctioning, ‘Warp? They’re _Autobots_, they’ll shoot us with no hesitation!” 

“Yeah, but no! Hear me out!” Starscream vents a sigh, but gestures for Skywarp to continue, paying no attention to Thundercracker sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. Grinning, Skywarp puts his servos together, just the tips of his digits, looking for all the universe like he has some grand, master scheme.

“We follow the customs~.” 

“...”

“... Sky, what-?”

“That’s how we got out of certain deactivation at Halloween, right?! So, we just do it again! But this time, _Christmas_.” Starscream and Thundercracker stare at him, both of them with unreadable expressions. When they finally react - 

“As if the Autodolts will fall for that again!”

“If it worked once, we may as well try it again.”

\- Their sentences couldn’t be more different. The two glare at each other, prompting Skywarp to roll his optics as he flops back into the comforting pile of his steals.

“Well, do _you_ have a better idea, ‘Screamer?” Starscream purses his lipplates together, grinding his denta. He doesn’t, and he knows Skywarp knows that.

“Fine. What are these ‘customs’ of Christmas?” Skywarp shrugs. His trineleader makes a sound of frustration, gesturing angrily as if trying to ask why Skywarp he recommended something he doesn’t know how to do.

“What?! That’s not _my_ area of expertise! I like horror and comedy! Christmas movies are sappy, disgusting, boring-”

“They’re _romantic_!”

“- and TC’s favourite~.” Starscream turns accusingly to Thundercracker, who just incriminated himself with his protest of ‘romance’, the youngest clicking off his vocaliser and averting his gaze as his cheekplates flush with colour. Starscream simply vents a heavy sigh, rolling his optics.

“Even though I am judging you _severely_, your tacky taste might come in useful this once.” Skywarp snickers as Thundercracker grumbles about his taste being anything but ‘tacky’ - which is a lie, he loves tacky things - as Starscream impatiently waits for the younger to start explaining these Christmas Customs.

“... There’s… Not much I can say?” Not without sounding stupid, Thundercracker’s wings helpfully portray, but Starscream doesn’t have time for his trinemates embarrassment when their _lives_ could be at risk.

“Just list the common themes, then!” 

“Indifferent parents magically becoming animals to relearn the love of their families, falling in love in less than an earth week with a stranger met whilst shopping for presents, accidentally killing Santa and replacing him, purposefully attempting to kill home intruders, and propositioning your best friend’s sparkmate.”

Dead silence.

Skywarp and Starscream both stare at Thundercracker with matching expressions of disbelief and disgust, watching as he slowly sinks down so his wings touch the floor, pulled back in mortification, and he grabs a pillow from Skywarp’s pile to hide his face behind.

“I did _say_ there wasn’t much I could say!” 

“TC, what the frag are you watching…?”

“I… Will be limiting the amount of human media you two consume.”

“Wha-?! ‘Screamer, that’s not fair! TC’s the delusional one, I watch fun stuff!” Thundercracker’s engines pick up with an unhappy grumble, his thrusters giving a small, annoyed whir as if he’s about to let off a tiny sonic boom. Starscream nudges the closest one with his own pede.

“As the oldest, I should have been regulating your screen time anyways! You imbeciles are much too involved in useless human media and those movies don’t help us at all!” Arms crossed, Starscream’s wings flick with irritation, almost knocking a rusted ornament off the shelf behind him. 

“Hey, wait a minute.” Starscream raises an optic ridge at Skywarp, whilst Thundercracker peeks out from behind the pillow, wondering if Skywarp is about to say something that will get them both _banned_ from movies and TV. He doesn’t expect Skywarp to look directly at him, optics bright with focus.

“You said shopping for presents. Is that in like, every Christmas movie ever?”

“Yea.”

“And Christmas episodes of that slag you watch?”

“It’s not slag. But, yea.” 

“Shopping for presents for _who_?” The pillow slowly drops as Thundercracker shuffles back up to sit properly, catching onto Skywarp’s line of thought.

“Mostly friends ‘n’ family. I guess that’s the custom all along.” Throwing his arms up, Starscream moves away from the desk he’s leaning against.

“_Finally_!!! Something useful! If we’re going to avoid getting turned into scrap when we show up for recon, we’ll give the - urgh - we’ll give the Autobots presents.” It’s clear from the upturned lipplates and narrowed optics that Starscream is not a fan of the idea, but his self-preservation drive is stronger.

He waltzes over to an unassuming door in their room, one connected to the personal storage space every quarters has. Starscream vents deeply, somewhat like he’s suffering, servo wrapped around the handle and preparing to open it…

Because whilst the seeker’s _quarters_ are tidy…

He yanks it open and quickly steps aside, letting a tidal wave of all sorts of nonsense pour out from the storage space.

… Their little ‘Kleptomaniac corner’ is anything _but_.

“Skywarp, have you been adding to this?” Grinning, Skywarp opens his subspace compartment and chucks a very-much-stolen rocking chair onto the pile. Starscream squints at him. Skywarp grins wider. 

“Well… At least we have plenty of options?” Thundercracker pulls some kind of twisted mechanism out of the heap of wonders, frowning at it before it clicks in his processor and he twists it into the original form of a Cybertronian puzzle. Perfect for the crazy inventor, Wheeljack.

“There’s enough here that I’m sure we can figure out what each Autobot would want. Good work, Skywarp.” Skywarp preens under the praise, lifting his wings appreciatively as he scrambles over to pick out an old Victorian rocking horse he stole from an antiques fair.

“I think a minibot would fit on this, right?”

“A minibot would _crush_ that.” Starscream eyes it up, doing a few mental calculations, before nodding in approval.

“Those blasted squishies might just be within the weight limit though.” 

“Okay, but what about this one?” From the stolen goods, Skywarp pulls out a horse figure that has clearly been ripped straight from a carousel. Many others surround it. Starscream shutters his optics in stunned silence.

“... You need Primus.” Laughing, Skywarp just puts the two horse shaped items aside, going rummaging through the pile for anything else suitable.

“Nothin’ wrong with taking a trophy here and there!” Raising a single optic ridge, Thundercracker holds up a rock covered in moss.

“You call this a trophy?”

“... It’s a funny shape, okay? Look, look at it from a lower angle and tilt your helm sideways. Doesn’t it look like Megatron after getting a primo Prime punch?!” Dubious, Thundercracker follows Skywarp’s instructions, and much to his own surprise, snorts as he sees _exactly_ what Skywarp means.

“Here, Star, you’d love this~.” Starscream promptly swats both of them over the backs of the helms.

“_Idiots._” He glares at the pile until his optics suddenly go wide, reaching in and yanking out an aged, weathered circular disk, Tarnish in origin.

“Did you seriously steal Megatron’s gladiatorial belt!?” Skywarp flicks his optics guiltily from Starscream, to the object, to Starscream, and back to the object. Then, he relaxes.

“Oh, nah. That’s the one I stole from Soundwave.” The crash of Starscream’s processor is almost audible. Skywarp snickers as his trine leader locks up on the spot, fritzing as he goes through a hard reboot. 

Thundercracker sighs, but his field betrays his amusement as he chucks the pillow he took from Skywarp earlier to where Starscream is undoubtedly going to fall when his locking system gives way to his working processor. 

“Did you _really_ steal it from Soundwave?”

“Nope! I’m not _that_ stupid, even if I like collecting stuff. I know it was Soundwave’s one, but he threw it out waaaaay back on Cybertron. I just took it from the incineration room when I was on duty.”

“Ah. I’m guessing that’s where you got most of the Cybertronian stuff from.” 

“Pit yeah! There’s tons of stuff I can use for all kinds of pranks in there.” There’s a dull thud as Starscream falls back onto the pillow, coming back online with a screech, lunging for Skywarp’s neck.

“You pit-spawned, half-clocked, _idiot_ of a mech!!! Don’t you _**dare**_ steal from anyone who could _offline you in an instant_-!”

“Easy, Star. Sky just said that to make you crash.” Skywarp pitches his wings forward in sheepish apology, not daring to look away as Starscream recedes, in case he changes his mind and goes for the neck again. 

“You had _better_ have. Not that I’m pleased to have crashed, but I’d rather than than have Soundwave marking us for recycling.” Thundercracker glances between the two, making sure they’re not going into another one of their infamous fights -

(Last time, Starscream had destroyed an entire docking station in Perihex, and Skywarp had _somehow_ silenced The Sonic Canyons for a full quartex.)

\- Before looking back to the small pile of things he’s extracted that could potentially be gifts for the Autobots. The thought he’s even doing this for _the Autobots_ makes his tanks curdle, but then again, he’s wanted to do something for Christmas since he found out about it.

“... We need to wrap them.”

“Huh?”

“What are you going on about now?”

“The presents. We need to wrap them. We need to- Humans cover presents in sheets of thin material and put the name of who they’re giving it to on.” He averts his optics from his trinemates, not wanting them to see the hint of colour on his faceplates.

They know, anyways. They can feel the rare, pulsing excitement through the trinebond. Admittedly, Starscream is excited too, but that’s more because he’s selfish and wants presents and gifts abound thrown at his feet in worship.

Obviously, because Santa had forgotten to come, _that_ isn’t going to happen.  
In Starscream’s mind, that meant Santa had to die.

“I don’t suppose you have any ‘wrapping’ lying around in this trash, Skywarp?”

“It’s not trash! It’s scavenged and stolen goods! And, uh, not that I know of.”

“Perfect. Probably the _one_ thing you don’t have.”

“I don’t have a scale model of Hogwarts.” Pausing in his rifling through the pile, Skywarp sends his trineleader a cheeky grin.

“_Yet_.”

“Skywarp, I swear to Primus-”

“Take me to Watford. I dare you.” 

“I can’t take you _anywhere!_”

“Double dare you.”

“Skywarp, no, leave Star alone, plea-”

“Frag you, Skywarp! I’ll throw you in the brig before I take you to Watford!”

“I _**triple** super-duper **trine**_ dare you.” When Starscream goes silent, narrowing his optics at Skywarp with skepticism, Thundercracker buries his faceplates in his servos with a suffering sigh.

Because generally, it means Skywarp is about to get his way.

“Triple trine dare, you say?” Skywarp nods, his wings flickering hopefully. Starscream straightens up, rolling his shoulders like he’s trying to look disinterested. It’s not working.

“And what’s in it for me?”

“Ever wanted to strap the Hogwarts Express above Astrotrain’s berth so he wakes up to it?” The corners of Starscream’s lips twitch upwards in a cruel smirk.

“I do quite enjoy the notion of him coming face to face with the empty, sparkless husk of his exact likeness~.” His engines rumbling in displeasure, Thundercracker sends a burst of exhausted irritation across the trine bond.

He knows _he’ll_ have to smooth out the aftermath.

Starscream and Skywarp, however, could care less about the aftereffects of their pranks.

“We’re raiding on England again in three earth weeks. I’ll chart a course that takes us directly over Watford.” Skywarp’s cheer of victory almost knocks out Starscream’s audios, but he only swats the back of Skywarp’s helm in return.

Desperate to distract them enough that they hopefully forget their little scheme, Thundercracker clapped his servos together.

“Let’s find some wrapping, uh, material!” His trinemates send him amused yet criticizing looks.

“Your vocabulary astounds me, Thundercracker.” He shoves at Starscream in return, rolling his optics.

“Just make yourself useful and grab some… I dunno, aluminium sheets or somethin’ from your lab.” Scoffing, Starscream pushes himself up from where he’s been somewhat content on the floor after attempting to strangle Skywarp, and heads into the connected lab, making sure to cover up the door’s code.

It’s the only room in the Nemesis with an anti-warp field, and he will _not_ have Skywarp causing mayhem in there after entering normally. 

Starscream knows very well that Skywarp could destroy this entire planet accidentally, given access to the delicate chemicals and machinery.

“Aluminium sheets… Pah! _Obviously_, a microlattice of Nitinol would be more sufficient!” Locating a stack of sheets in one of his many organised cupboards, Starscream pulls out a good wad, balancing them over his arms and bringing them back though. He places them on the berth, stepping carefully around the mess Skywarp’s making from scattering potential ‘gifts’ around the room.

“Use these _sparingly_! I need them for a project!” Avoiding Thundercracker’s gaze - mostly because he has one optic ridge raised judgmentally - Starscream shifts back to where he was sitting before.

“I take it you’ve had the processing units to select these based on _who_ you’re giving them to?” Skywarp guiltily stretches a leg out as if to hide his chosen gifts of-

“Why do you have so many horse-shaped things?!” Sheepishly, Skywarp glances down at his… Rather impressive collection. Carousel horses, rocking horses, actual _statues_ stolen from their perches.

“They’re just so easy to steal! An’ they’re everywhere! The squishies ain’t gonna miss ‘em!” Scoffing, Starscream crosses his arms.

“You’re not giving those away as ‘presents’. I’m serious, ‘Warp.”

“Wha-?! What’s wrong with them?!”

“Well, firstly, I don’t think the Autobots will appreciate _horses_, and secondly, they’ll probably shoot you - us - for stealing it in the first place.” Skywarp narrows his optics, pressing his lipplates together in something bordering on a pout.

“I know at least one Autobot that would appreciate horses…” At a raised optic ridge from Starscream and a flutter of curiosity across the trine bond from Thundercracker, Skywarp grins and amusedly answers;

“Ironhide is totally a ‘horse girl’. Don’t deny it until you’ve thought about it!” His trinemates silently stare at him, Starscream in disgust and Thundercracker as if he regrets asking. Rubbing his servos over his faceplate again, Thundercracker peers out between digits.

“I hate that I’ve never heard that before, but know exactly what it means just because _you’re_ saying it._I hate that_.” His pained tone is enough to set Skywarp off snickering, reaching over to grab one of the sheets Starscream brought them.

Focused on their task, the three fall into a rare silence. The quiet is comfortable, the trinebond filling in for the lack of conversation. Starscream only looks up from his fastidious wrapping - although he doesn’t care about the contents or name slapped on the ‘present’ - when Thundercracker’s side of the trinebond suspiciously thins, with a small burst of secrecy.

“... What are you doing?” Blue wings hitch up high as Thundercracker jumps at the sudden voice, scrambling to cover whatever he’s wrapping with more wrapping.

“Nothing!” His voice is pitched too high, too loud, and that only makes him more suspect. Starscream narrows his optics. Reaching over, Starscream snatches the top level of nitinol away.

“I-! I am _so_ disappointed in you!” He tries to snatch away what Thundercracker is _attempting_ to wrap, but Thundercracker is quicker, pulling it back towards himself. Shuttering his optics, Skywarp focuses in on what he’s trying to keep out of Starscream’s claws.

“Is that… A datapad?”

“No.” The guilty rebuttal is too quick to be anything but a lie, and Skywarp notices Thundercracker’s optics flicker towards his personal shelf, where there’s now an empty space that was not there before…

“TC, please tell me that’s not your fraggin’ stupid stories.” He watches with a fading hope as Thundercracker’s wings slowly lower, deeply hurt by the insult but still trying to deny the very obvious truth. Starscream vents with a hint of a growl, running both servos down his faceplates.

“We are trying _not_ to get shot, you dense scrapheap. If the Autobots read that absolute drivel - or _attempt to_, because it’s just plain unreadable - we’re going to be left to bleed out in central New York!”

“It’s not drivel…” 

“Who were you even going to give it to?” Starscream doesn’t wait for Thundercracker to answer, turning over the nitinol to reveal the designation written on it.

“... You’re going to end up getting us deactivated. If we _ever_ get slagged on the battlefield, there is no way the Autobots will fix us.” Skywarp’s optics widen.

“For the medic?!” Starscream flips the nitinol wrapping around so Skywarp can read the glyph on it, his wings deflating a little when it’s _not_ Ratchet written on the microlattice.

“That’s not the medic.”

“No, it’s the maintenance engineer, who has a _completely_ different skillset which is just as crucial for staying online.” Thick, pure black glyphs spell out HOIST across the microlattice, and Thundercracker looks away as Starscream and Skywarp stare silently at him, demanding an explanation through the trinebond.

“... Hoist has connections to Hollywood…” He quickly switches off his audials, letting his trinemates laugh, scream, and complain to their sparks content whilst he re-wraps the datapads. 

It’s his first **real** Christmas - one that doesn’t include stealing a tree and moping for the rest of the day- so he’s going to do what he wants.

By the time Starscream and Skywarp have calmed down, it’s almost time to leave. There’s an audible ping before Starscream stands up from where he’s been sat in the corner, back to his trinemates in a _foul_ mood, and he walks over to the door in a manner of a youngling throwing a tantrum.

“It’s time. Let’s go.” He’s undeniably angry. Skywarp grits his denta with a wince, giving Thundercracker a sympathetic shrug and sends a burst of reassurance over the trinebond. He gets faint amusement in response, the younger knowing that Starscream’s mood will only last until they get in their air.

Flying is more than just fun for them. It’s a lifestyle. It’s therapeutic. It’s _necessary_.

“How’re we gonna get all these presents to the plaza?”

“We have _cockpits_, idiot.”

“No, Sky’s got a point. There’s too many here for the three of us to carry alone.” Starscream regards his trine through narrow optics before his vents huff with irritation, and he storms back through to his lab.

“I swear to Primus you two are so useless, I can’t believe I ended up with _dunces_ as trinemates!” Sharing a fond, exasperated look, Skywarp and Thundercracker wait for Starscream to re-emerge with what looks like a net made from flexible copper all weaved together. 

“I _was_ going to use this to run an electrical current through and disrupt Megatron’s outdated motor circuits, but since that’s not my goal anymore…” He trails off, for some reason ashamed that he’s no longer keeping their leader on his toes.

He doesn’t miss the beatings though. Not a _bit_. Or the ache the corruption in his personality components caused. Hook had removed his helm-ache, and consequently, fixed a problem no one had even known was there.

(Starscream knew his trine had suspected something all along. They’d known him since he was a youngling, for spark’s sake, they knew something was damaged, they just didn’t know what.)

“Here. It’s a three-point net. We can load the presents onto it and fly in formation to carry a support corner each.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” Before they leave, Starscream grabs a few spare sheets of the nitinol microlattice, stashing them in his sub-space, carefully folded. At Skywarp’s quirked optic ridge, he scowls, but explains.

“The highly elastic properties are ideal for covering a wound too big to weld. No doubt the Autodolts don’t have much of this, since they have no means of creating it.”

“Huh. That could come back to bite us in the aft.” A smirk flickers across Starscream’s faceplates as he leads his trine towards the exit tower, the net in his arms.

“True.” The smirk vanishes and his wings dip as he lowers his head with a rare, solemness in his field.

“But none of us have deactivated on Earth yet. I don’t intend for there to be a first.”

“Not even the Autobots?”

“No, ‘Warp. Not even the Autobots. We’re going to end this war with _plenty_ of prisoners, so we can make them clean up the worst parts of Cybertron whilst we rebuild.” Thundercracker rumbles a small, soft chuckle.

“Let the grounders do the ground work so we can fly, huh? I can support that~. Is Megatron aware of your ambitions, though?” At that, Starscream’s field relaxes, gently lapping at both of his trinemates with a sense of patience and humour.

“Since I’ve kept pointing out how he fails to kill Prime anyways, he has started listening to my plan. He’s _trying_ to understand, but he’s so old and outmoded, I fear his processor will melt before he completely agrees with me.” Skywarp snickers, nudging his elbow against Starscream’s. Luckily, he doesn’t dislodge any of the presents they’re carrying.

Neither of them are truly paying attention as Thundercracker enters their codes into the exit tower, briefly raising an optic ridge when he notices Soundwave and Megatron were the last to leave. 

Or rather, that they’ve even _left_. He hides his surprise well enough that neither Skywarp nor Starscream pick up on it, their own happiness drowning out the split-second flicker in the trinebond.

“C’mon, tower’s here.” 

“We’re coming, geez. Hold your flaps, TC.” 

“It should be ‘hold your ailerons’, not flaps. Primus, ‘Warp, anyone would thing you were raised in _Polyhex_.” Leaping into the air, they transform with a grace and elegance only Seekers possess, engaging thruster at the exact same time so the net fills with presents falling from their servos and they can safely fly off.

Starscream takes the front, as always, Skywarp on his right wing, Thundercracker on his left. It’s how they’ve always flown, how they always will.

“Well, that’s how my Sire always said it, that’s how I’ll say it!”

“Your creators _were_ partly raised in Polyhex. You, were not.”

“Aww, c’mon, ‘Screamer! I’m just like them in the same way you’re just like your creators!” Starscream goes to retort, processes the words, and his vocaliser stutters with various pitches of static as he tries to reply through the warm, almost overwhelming feeling. Skywarp laughs.

“Deep vent, ‘Screamer~!” He and Thundercracker send their comfort through the trinebond, since their servos are too full to actually rub his back or pat his wings right now. It takes a good astrominute for Starscream to calm his pulsing spark.

“Yes… Well, uh… Frag it, Skywarp! I can’t argue with you anymore after you’ve said that!” Skywarp and Thundercracker laugh at him, but he knows from the _trine/love/family_ in his spark that they mean it in goodwill.

“Does that mean I’m unique~?” The lighthearted question cuts through the amusement like a laser. Whilst Thundercracker hadn’t meant it to, it silences Skywarp and Starscream abruptly, a brief flash of panic between them.

They can’t say which of his creators he was most like.  
Because Thundercracker doesn’t _have_ creators.

“Forget I said anything.”

“I think you’re a perfect balance between Tendercloud and the Rainmakers!” Just like that, Skywarp brings the good mood bouncing back. Thundercracker booms a laugh, his engines roaring. He would do a little corkscrew if he wasn’t carrying part of the net, but he doesn’t want to risk spilling the presents.

“Tendercloud _and_ all of the Rainmakers? That’s a little unfair, doncha think?” 

“Hmm… You’re right. You _definitely_ take after Tendercloud a lot though.”

“Not sure I see it, but okay.” The other two nudge at him over the bond as if they were physically brushing against him in reassurance, convincing him that they’re right. Skywarp wiggles his wings in flight mischievously.

“Our TC takes after the OG TC!”

“_You_ called me TC2 for the longest time.”

“Well, duh! You didn’t have a designation! We couldn’t call you ‘sparkling’, cus we weren’t much older!”

“Yea, but TC2? Seriously???” Skywarp laughs loudly.

“Oh, come on! You loved it enough to keep it when you chose your name!” 

“Ionstorm.” Starscream interrupts them with a whimsical tone, ending the playful argument. Once his trinemates are silent, he elaborates.

“You’re a mix of Tendercloud and… Ionstorm~.” If Thundercracker were in root mode, he would have raised an optic ridge in questioning. 

“Why Ionstorm?” He immediately regrets his questioning when Starscream and Skywarp _flood_ the trinebond with matching mischief. They answer in perfect unison;

“Blue buddies~.”

“Blue buddies!” The tease comes from back when they were only _younglings_, living and playing in the Royal Spire of Vos. Back when war had been nothing more than a speck on the horizon. 

Groaning despite his joy, Thundercracker deliberately pinches the trinebond enough to chastise the other two for bringing up something embarrassing.

“I think you recovered that from my memory banks 5 nanoseconds before I forgot it forever.” The three laugh together, Starscream and Thundercracker’s chuckles quiet compared to Skywarp’s bursting cackle. Things quieten down when they spot a familiar skyline.

“We’re coming up to New York. Drop to Mach 2, once we get to the city borders, begin descent _slowly_. Disable weapon systems, but leave your flight coding active. We’ll regroup immediately if the Autobots fire on us.”

“Copy that.”

“Loud and clear.” The trine alters their speed accordingly, making sure the net never loses tension or stretches too far. They don’t want to damage their fragile cargo, no matter how bitter Starscream is about giving presents to the _Autobots_. Urgh.

“Rockefeller Plaza coming into view in 3...2...1…” Below them, the bleak grey of the cityscape and plain white of the snow _transforms_, the plaza filled with a gigantic green tree, decorated in blues and silvers and greens and red! There’s colour _everywhere_, bright and blinding and captivating!

“Huh. Impressive.” Starscream’s compliment is not to be taken lightly, though his spark feels light in its chamber. It feels… It feels _content_. It reminds him of the festivals they used to celebrate in Vos, and in particular, his _favourite_ one.

The Light of The Star Saber Faire.

Every tower in Vos had been lit up to resemble the vertical sword, a dazzling display of colours from the rainbow, to symbolise how they belonged together to create a bright Cybertron, just like the prisms came together to create the white beam from the Star Saber.

The decorations below, illuminating the surrounding buildings and reaching high in to the sky, bring back fond memories of his most dear celebration.

“Hey, TC, really think you can steal _that_ tree?!”

“Primus, Sky, I already said I’m not going to try.” A pause of consideration before he speaks again, vocaliser pitched up a little as he tries to fight back a laugh.

“Think the Autobots will have one outside their base again? We could always head back that way…”

“Thundercracker, no! I’m starting to think Skywarp’s kleptomaniac tendencies are rubbing off on you…”

“I just want a tree.” It takes an astrosecond for it to sink in how ridiculous he sounds out of context, Skywarp snorting and Starscream venting a sigh. Thundercracker himself clicks his vocaliser off and momentarily shorts out his engine so it doesn’t backfire.

“What in Tarnation?!” They go from jovial to serious in the shutter of an optic. There’s only one mech with that Western accent, and it’s not a friendly one.

:://_ Customs! Customs, Thundercracker- What are the customs?!_ \\\::

:://_ Say ‘Merry christmas’!? How am I supposed to know?!_ \\\::

:://_ Skywarp said **you** were the Christmas nerd!_ \\\::

:://_ Skywarp!_ \\\::

:://_ What?! You **are** the Christmas-! Ohhh, Primus, they’re evacuating the squishies. We’re about to get slaaaaagged._ \\\::

:://_** THUNDERCRACKER!!!**_ \\\::

“Uh- Christmas ceasefire!!! We want- we request a Christmas ceasefire! Merry Christmas?” Back on the ground, Optimus hesitates in pulling his gun out of his subspace, holding a servo out flat to signal for the other Autobots to hold their fire.

“Prime! Yer really gonna consider the words of a ‘Con?”

“I’ll consider every plea for a ceasefire, Ironhide. Too much energon has already been spilled.” He humms lightly under his mask, gently lowering his servo as an indication for weapons to be dropped. He’s not fully convinced, though.

“Why the request, Decepticons? Why here and now?” The seekers above circle around once more, and Prime gets the feeling they’re communicating without words. What’s more, he’s concerned about what could be in that large net of theirs.

“Prime.” He glances over at Ratchet, just behind him, whilst the seekers take time to deliberate their answer.

“That’s a large amount of nitinol microlattice they’re carrying.”

“Is it dangerous?”

“Scrap no! Much the opposite. It could be lifesaving.” Blue optics flash with a hint of desperation, and Ratchet’s conviction persuades Prime to accept the ceasefire. But first, he needs to know the trine aren’t here to cause trouble.

“Jazz, organise a small group to scout around the Plaza. Any hidden decepticons, comm me immediately but do not engage.”

“Gotcha, Prime!” Jazz bounds off, undoubtedly gathering up his Special Ops team. Jet engines coming in closer draw Optimus’s attention back towards the seekers. Surprisingly, it’s not Starscream who flies in closest or speaks. It’s Thundercracker.

“Because- Because it’s Christmas… I’ve never- _We’ve_ never had a Christmas.” Ironhide raises an optic bridge, sneering, shaking a fist at them.

“Yer sure got a kick out of raidin’ ours last year! _And_ tearing up th’ pine forest!” Starscream and Skywarp’s field radiate with amusement, large enough that the Autobots can feel it. Similarly, they feel the embarrassment from Thundercracker.

“... Merry Christmas?” The response prompts a loud, genuine laugh of goodwill from Prime, sparking a ripple of calm through the rest of the army. Stepping forwards, Prime extends a servo out.

“I’ll accept the ceasefire on the conditions it include the humans~.”

“Yea, that’s- We anticipated that.” 

“Awesome! This was getting heavy!” 

“Skywarp, no-!!” Starscream’s screech is ignored as Skywarp disconnects the magnet that had attached the net to his underside, and the presents drop from his side, spilling onto the snowy floor. The sudden pull jerks Starscream and Thundercracker towards each other and they narrowly avoid a collision by disconnecting their own magnets and transforming to land around the fallen net.

“... Oops.” As soon as Skywarp transforms and lands next to them, he’s swatted round both sides of his helm in unison. Thundercracker stays with him to grumble about damaging the presents whilst Starscream steps forwards to meet Prime, holding his own servo out. His upper lipplate is curled back in distaste, his wings held high as if he’s trying to make himself look bigger.

“Just so you know - This was _not_ my idea.” He nods his head towards his trinemates, who look like complete morons, frozen in place as brave (or stupid) human sparklings approach them in wonder.

Prime chuckles, shaking their servos to solidify the ceasefire. Even if it _is_ only for Christmas. 

“Regardless, I hope Christmas reaches your spark as much as it has warmed ours~.” Starscream’s wings flicker, before he turns to the medic. From his subspace, he pulls out the huge wad of folded nitinol.

“Here. I was informed giving presents was the custom. Along with many other… Dubious... Things.” Ratchet’s optics flash almost a brilliant white in surprise as he enthusiastically - but carefully - takes the gift. 

“Do you have _any_ idea how _valuable_ this is?” 

“Pah, only if you don’t know how to make it!” As Ratchet stores away the microlattice, still somewhat in awe of being given a huge amount of material that could _save someone’s life_, he whips his helm to a very proud Starscream.

“You know how to make it?” Starscream juts his chin out a little further, pushing out his cockpit in pride.

“Of course! Any second rate exploration scientist should be able to!” Ratchet’s field softens with amusement, but then dims as he frowns. 

“Hmm… Dulled optics, faded colour nanites around the joints, humming from strained anti-gravs… You’re low on energon. The refuelling table is this way, come along.” Starscream goes to follow before glancing back to his trinemates, just to make sure they aren’t getting themselves killed.

On the contrary, they seem to prove rather popular. Skywarp has plucked one of the presents from the pile, one with ‘squishies’ written on in the most _terrible_ handwriting, and given it to the children. Since they’re too small and weak and feeble to pull apart the metal, Thundercracker carefully unfolds it for them.

The sight of the old victorian rocking horse prompts squeals loud enough to be _weaponsied_. 

Just like that, with a little pinch of Christmas magic, the human sparklings are climbing over his trinemates, clambering around the rocking horse, and excitedly asking overlapping questions about planes, and flying, and wings.

The two look over to Starscream in the same instance, Skywarp with an expression that switches from pure delight to ‘help’ as he’s swarmed by children, and Thundercracker like he’s about to _cry_ from sheer joy.

Starscream only smirks and waves as he heads over to the table, where many of the Autobots are gathered. Some of them, understandably, are suspicious.

But others are either stupid or brave or naive, because they’re _welcoming_.

“Hey, Starscream! Try one of these, they’re delicious!” The red twin - who, by observation, is standing next to his glaring golden twin - enthusiastically offers out a nearly empty bowl of energon goodies, the jelly-like cubes wobbling and glittering a cloudy pink.

That same pink is smeared around his lipplates, though who is Starscream to judge when there’s _goodies_ to be devoured? (If the Autobots didn’t know about his secret sweet denta before, they’re going to after this.) But is attention is grabbed by something else.

“_Mid_-Grade? Is that seriously _Mid-Grade_?!” His disbelief is followed up with a few glances, measuring from concerned to confused. The forcefield Autobot - Trailbreaker - passes over one of the energon cubes cautiously.

“Yes? It’s- It’s standard?” Wings lowering just the slightest, Starscream takes the cube with two hands and looks into it with a soft, sad expression.

“I haven’t had Mid-Grade since… Hm.” He stops himself from mentioning The Fall of Vos by taking a swig. He’s surrounded by Autobots, after all, and whilst they have a new Prime, they were still the faction to bring his home to the ground.

A hand claps him on the back, roughly, but not in an unfriendly manner.

“There’s plenty here to share! It’s Christmas, after all!” The mech who did it disappears before he can work out who it was, but Starscream surprisingly finds he doesn’t care. The good mood here is _infectious_.

(Smokescreen had deliberately made a quick exit in case he was going to get smacked for it.)

“Okay, so now you’ve had the cube, try one of these?” Starscream rolls his optics, but takes one of the goodies all the same. Before he can even pop it in though-

“Thundercracker, stay away from the tree!” With engines rumbling in surprise, Thundercracker physically jumps as he’s called out - literally - freezing in place with a shocked expression until he realises Starscream is only jesting and the Autobots are _laughing_ with him. He folds his arms, frowning.

“I’m only looking.” That said, he walks calmly over to the giant Rockefeller tree, staring up at it in sheer awe. It’s easily 30 meters, six times his own height. As he approaches, two of the squishies _wave_ at him from a bench. A quick scan provides him with the information that these are the younglings who spend all their time with the Autobots.

Now, if only he could remember their names…?

“Hey, Thundercracker, come to see the famous tree?” And they remember _his_ designation. 

Well, now he feels bad. 

He nods regardless. The human female grins, leaning forwards as she swings her legs on the bench.

“And maybe not steal this one~?” Shuttering his optics, it takes Thundercracker a split second to realise she’s _joking_. She’s comfortable enough to tease him. Maybe the magic of Christmas is real after all. He quirks a tiny smile back.

“I don’t think I could if I tried. And… I’d rather not make it a habit.” The duo laugh, and Thundercracker notices they’re holding gloved servos - no, hands - which indicates a relationship. He… Hadn’t considered the locals were capable of such things. But he was quickly realising humans were relatively advanced compared to the rest of Earth’s lifeforms.

Suddenly, their names come to him in a flash, like opening a _really_ old memory file.

“Sorry for intruding on you, Spike, Carly.” They look at each other, seemingly surprised by the apology, but quickly relax and sit back against the bench.

“There’s no intrusion. Well, not unless you kidnap me and leave me in a flooded room again, but otherwise, it’s a public event, all are welcome!” He fights the urge to wince at Carly’s joking sentence. Yeah, they really had tried to drown her in the past. Oops. Spike pokes at her side, making her squeak and slap at his thigh.

“You’re making him uncomfortable. But yeah, all are welcome. It’s Christmas.” Spike shrugs as if that explains everything. Silently, because he doesn’t know what to say, Thundercracker just looks back up at the tree.

It’s unlike anything he’s ever seen before. The tree he stole from the Autobots was minibot sized, nothing like this towering fir tree, covered in glittering tinsel and colourful blinking lights and _tiny shaped decorations_-

He reaches up with a small smile to rest a plane shaped decoration against the palm of his hand. It’s silver, not blue, and definitely not modern, but it’s a fighter jet like him. The humans must pick up on his ecstatic find, because even without the ability to read a field, they laugh in merriment.

“It’s you!” Thundercracker turns to face them without fully turning, the plane still resting against his palm as he displays it to them, grinning unashamedly and wings wiggling in pure delight. Spike barks a laugh, but it’s Carly who wraps her arms around her midsection, laughing so hard that she rocks between leaning against Spike and hunching over on the bench, her eyes leaking.

“Oh my- Oh my _gosh_!!! You’re such a _dork_!” His wings wiggle again, and he looks back to the decoration. It’s… Notably different to the ones around it. Stars and reindeer and santa shapes amongst the round coloured balls. He doesn’t remember reading about it either.

“Why is there a fighter jet on the Christmas tree?” Still laughing, Carly excuses herself to go and calm down, leaving Spike to explain. He slips from the bench to come and stand by Thundercracker’s side. He almost reaches his cockpit in height, but not quite. 

“It’s to pay homage to the ceasefire in World War Two.” At Thundercracker’s confused look, Spike continues.

“A century ago, there was a huge war that involved multiple countries. The main ones we think of today are Germany and the countries in The UK. On Christmas Day in 1914, the fighting forces met on No-Man’s land to exchange gifts, take photos, and play football in an impromptu ceasefire.”

“Impromptu? What- What about their orders? What about their superiors, or high command?” Spike shrugs, his heavy winter coat lifting with his shoulders.

“Dunno. We never heard about that part. But the moment went down in history, one of the only good things that ever came from war. It’s… Kind of memorialised because it shows how the Christmas Spirit brings people together? If it hadn’t been Christmas, they would have just kept killing each other.”

“... I think I like Christmas.” At the quiet admission, having been listening in secretly, Ironhide backs off, heading back down to the main gathering. He feels a little guilty for being so suspicious when the seekers were _clearly_ just young, inquisitive mechs who wanted something they could innocently enjoy, rather than have to fight all the time.

It… _Humanises_ them, because even though they aren’t humans, it reminds him that they aren’t monsters either. They’re just… Mechs. The only non-physical difference between him and them is the faction they fight for. 

They have sparks, they’re just hidden behind millenia of war and hatred.

“Heya ‘Hide! I woulda thought ya’d be corralling the twins by now!” Ironhide pretends like he didn’t just jump as Jazz appears in front of him.

_Upside down_.

Suspended from a building above by his grappling hook, Jazz grins as Ironhide rolls his optics and crosses his arms.

“Th’ twins are old enough ta look after themselves.” Tilting his head, Jazz points over to the twins, his field amused.

“Ya sure?” Venting a sigh, Ironhide drops his helm and raises a servo to cover it.

“Do ah even wan’ ta look?”

“Prob’ly not~!” With a heavier, more exhausted vent, Ironhide twists and peers at the twins through his digits. He abruptly twists back.

“Nope. No, no. Ah’m gonna pretend ah saw _nuthin’_.” Jazz laughs as he flips to land pedes first on the floor, reeling in his grappling hook. 

Because the twins, in all their mischievous glory, have decided that energon goodies are just as good as projectiles as they are as fuel. They had somehow - and Jazz suspected Starscream was involved - engineered a miniature catapult out of the _table legs_, and were pelting the mech who were now sat cross-legged around the table-with-no-legs.

“Prowler’ll get fed up eventua- Oop, there he goes~.” Doorwings covered in sticky, gelatinous goop, Prowl rises from his spot and the twins _bolt_, shrieking as they expect a chase. What they get instead, is a smirk.

“Autobots, ready the snowballs!” Sideswipe screeches to a halt, looking back over his shoulder with wide optics.

“What?! No, that’s not what you’re meant to do!” Much to Jazz’s glee, the Autobots around the table, including Optimus Prime, had scooped up as much snow as they could possibly hold in their servos and shaped it into balls. Prowl’s smirk grows into a barely-restrained grin.

“Launch!” His is the first thrown, but an entire barrage of snowballs follow, burying the screaming twins under a heap. Jazz can only laugh at the snowbots. Sunstreaker’s muffled complaints about his paint job can still be heard, until Prowl walks over and dumps another load of snow on top.

The human younglings - oh so easily distracted - abandon Skywarp in favour of running over to the pile, squealing and cheering the whole way, and clamber over the buried lamborghinis to start a snowball fight of their own.

Starscream, knowing full well that he had orchestrated the whole event and not been condemned, trots happily over to Skywarp’s side.

“Engaging in the customs _was_ a good idea, ‘Warp. You actually used your processor for once!” He offers Skywarp a servo up from the ground, the younger taking it with a grin and nudging Starscream affectionately once he’s standing.

“Don’t praise me too much, someone might think you’re actually happy _for once_!” Starscream shoves him back, but not enough to knock him over. His smile softens.

“You know, I think I actually am.”

“Wait, what, really?”

“Mhm. It reminds me of The Light of The Star Saber Faire. All the lights, and the treats, and the… The way everyone is excited just to be together.” Skywarp is silent for a moment, brushing his warm field against Starscream’s meaningfully.

“That’s Christmas, huh?”

“The evidence leads me to agree.” The thick tone of Starscream’s vocaliser betrays just how much he’s _feeling_, almost overwhelmed. In that astrosecond, he promptly decides that Christmas is the only good thing about this backwater planet. 

Not that he’s experienced much of Earth or its customs, but Christmas is too much like _home_ for it to not be his favourite. He’ll fight Thundercracker for that right if he has to.

“Minibot coming in hot, ‘Screamer.” At the proclamation, Starscream snaps himself out of his memory files and shutters his optics. Easy to spot against the snow, the bright yellow minibot is making his way over to them. 

It would probably be easier if he didn’t have humans half his size dangling off his arms, shoulders, and hips. 

Their weight makes him stumble around like he’s had high-grade, but he’s laughing just as much as they are, not caring how much of a fool he looks.

“Hey, come on guys, let a mech walk~!” The human sparklings - because they _can’t_ be any more than that - giggle and shriek and only cling tighter. It takes some of the older humans to gently but firmly pry them off a very thankful Bumblebee. 

Snickering, Starscream digs his elbow into Skywarp’s waist.

“I had to pull you away from Sunstorm like that once.”

“... _Seriously?_” Laughing at the stunned expression, Starscream sends the memory file over the trinebond, watching the colour drain from Skywarp’s faceplates.

“I am… So humiliated. Primus, what the pit was I thinking?” 

“As evident in the memory file, that he was going to be used as bait for turbofoxes~.”

“I-! Well, if Carrier hadn’t _told_ me that!!!” Starscream snickers again, quietening down as Bumblebee comes into audial range. He must fear nothing, because he waves and smiles like they’re old friends. Skywarp waves back, only encouraging him.

“Hey guys! The humans are vacating the ice rink for a little bit to give some of us a try! Wanna come join?” 

“Ice rink?! That sounds _so_ fraggin’ fun, count me in!” Bumblebee starts to jog off to lead the way, but pauses to look back at Starscream inquisitively. Starscream shutters his optics, then quietly raises a servo as if to say ‘no thank but please go ahead’, and Bumblebee nods before grabbing Skywarp’s wrist and dragging him towards the ice rink.

Not that Skywarp is complaining. 

Thundercracker leans against the side of the rink, helping the last straggling - and _struggling_ \- humans off the ice. His wings flicker in greeting and his faceplates twitch into a smile.

“Hope your aft is padded, Sky. Seems to be where most of the squishies land.” 

“Aww, c’mon! How difficult can it really be?!” Thundercracker raises an optic ridge with a grin that Skywarp _should_ be wary of, gesturing for his trinemate to take to the ice.

Not even 5 minutes later sees Skywarp wisened up to just how difficult ice skating is.

“What is this?! _What **is** this?!_ Holy frag, I can’t even stand!” He skids across the rink on his aft for the fourth time in 2 minutes, all the way from one end to the other, knocking over Windcharger and Bluestreak on the way.

Lined around the outside of the rink, humans, Autobots and Seekers who _aren’t_ on the ice laugh in merriment, united by the comedic display. Starscream barely vents, having watched Skywarp flopping uselessly like an Earth fish out of water for the full four minutes.

It seemed all his skill was in the air, not on the ice. 

Bumblebee, who had taken to the ice like it was _natural_, skids to a stop by Skywarp’s side and attempts to get him at least the right way up again. His efforts are put on hold when Sunstreaker comes sliding towards them on all fours.

Sideswipe, who was starting to get the hang of it, just pushes his (furious) brother around like a hockey puck. He waves cheekily at Bee and Skywarp as he passes, ignoring how Sunstreaker spits curses that would make a _radiator_ blush.

“Oh pit, I think I broke my aft.” Bumblebee laughs, expertly skating around him and helping his legs into the right place, Skywarp wobbling and clinging to the edge of the rink. He can hear Starscream howling, but whether that’s at him or Hound, who fell into the splits, Skywarp doesn’t know.

“You’re doing great, Skywarp!” Red optics narrow at Bee as he nearly slips again. Standing still. Much to his credit, Bee sheepishly shrugs.

“Well, I mean… You’re doing better than Cliffjumper?” The red minibot, who Bumblebee had pushed onto the ice when he’d been blocking the gate and trying to decide if he wanted to try it or not, lies flat on his back in the middle of the rink, hollering for someone to ‘get me off or melt this pit-spawned ice!’.

Everytime someone, usually Blustreak, scooted him closer to the sides, Cliffjumper found himself pushed back to the middle by either Sideswipe or Bumblebee.

“Okay, yeah, but _everyone’s_ doing better than Cliffjumper.”

“... True.” Groaning in frustration, Skywarp is about to give up and climb over the sides of the rink, but then Bumblebee’s optics light up as he watches Bluestreak speed around in a figure of eight.

“Hey, what about using your wings?”

“Us my… Wings? To ice skate?”

“Yeah! Like Bluestreak’s using his doorwings!” Skywarp twists around just enough to spot Bluestreak whizzing around the ice like he’s racing, his doorwings twitching in tiny movements to keep himself steady, rotating with the airflow, and twisting as he turns, stopping him from getting unbalanced.

“That’s not a bad idea! Okay, Bee, help me off this frelling side!” With a laugh, Bumblebee skates backwards and guides Skywarp away from the rink wall, holding his arms securely. As they pick up speed, Skywarp seems to start getting the hang of it, and he shoots a smirk to his trinemates.

Starscream rolls his optics, but his pride comes over the trinebond. Thundercracker gives a tiny wave, not wanting to dislodge the even tinier human sparklings that seems to have made their residence on his shoulders. 

(Seriously, how are they that tiny?! They’re like!!! Smaller than Ratbat!!!)

He must really like them, because he lets them ‘paint’ snow onto his wings. Prowl stands next to him to make sure the children aren’t too rough with the sensitive appendages, reprimanding them when they slap the snow on a little too hard.

“Go, Prime, go!”

“Alright, Optimus!” The cheers draw Skywarp’s attention, and Bumblebee laughs as he lets the seeker go to skate around him, towards the gate where Optimus steps cautiously onto the ice. Skywarp doesn’t seem to realise he’s skating without help until Sideswipe comes up to his side.

“Looks like you got the hang of it~!” Skywarp grins.

“Quicker than your twin did, huh?” Sunstreaker spits out another curse in the 408th language as he tries to push himself up from all fours, only for them to slide in opposite directions and land on his chassis, facedown in the ice. 

Like a good brother, Sideswipe takes a screen capture.

“Oh _pit_ yeah. I’m never letting Sunny live this down.”

“Don’t! Call me Sunny!” The muffled reply only makes Sideswipe laugh, realising Sunstreaker has all but given up and taken the Cliffjumper approach to ice skating.

“Alright, alright, I’ll help you up for real this time.” Rolling his optics at the highly sarcastic and agitated ‘THANK YOU!’ from the golden warrior, Sideswipe helps him up and over to the edge of the rink so he can escape. 

Skywarp bets Cliffjumper wishes someone would help _him_ off right now. 

Bluestreak circles around him, slowing to a stop, and then hooking both servos under Cliffjumper’s arms to scoot him over to the same gate Sunstreaker used. 

Well. Looks like he got that help after all.  
Probably because Bumblebee was too busy to cheekily interfere.

“- and then, point your pedes inwards to slow down! Got it?” Prime laughs as he follows Bumblebee’s instructions, wobbling a little, but staying upright. 

Much better than most of them. A mischievous idea enters Skywarp’s processor, and he grins like the Cybercat who got the chromium. He shouts across the ice;

“Hey, ‘Screamer! You really too _scared_ to get on the ice?” A chorus of ‘oooh’s come from those around Starscream, watching him bristle. 

“I- I am not _scared_! Simply too wise to make a fool of myself like you are!”

“Awww, is the poor widdle pwince of Vos scared of being shown up by _the Prime_~?” The goading does its job. Starscream’s wings jut upwards with a flicker of anger before they settle into a challenging position.

“I’ll show _you_ who’s getting shown up!” For some reason, as Starscream makes his way to the gate, the other Autobots begin to vacate the rink. Even Bluestreak and Bumblebee, who skated like they belonged there.

Skywarp clocks on as Jazz brings his speakers out.

“Humans and Bots of all ages and factions, we have a _challenge_! It’s a contest on the ice, it’s a snowy showdown, it’s Optimus Prime vs Starscream, in an ice skating Christmas miracle!!!” Cheers and bets start going around, and Skywarp flits to Thundercracker’s side, nudging himself in between him and Mirage.

“How much you putting on ‘Screamer?”

“Oh, I’m not.” 

“What!?” Skywarp whips his helm to Thundercracker like he’s _insane_ for missing a betting opportunity, but then catches the smirk. His optics widen and jaw drops, before he sets his vocaliser to a whisper.

“If ‘Screamer finds out you bet on Prime, it’s not _me_ that’s going to need repairs tomorrow.”

“So, you bet the same amount on Star, and we’ll say we bet half the amount each on him.”

“Only if he wins.”

“... Yea. Uh-oh.” The two share a look as they break into snickers, and Skywarp waves over the mech taking bets - Smokescreen - to place his own. Of course, not knowing how much or _what_ Thundercracker bet on Prime winning, Skywarp takes a random guess and places 5 single sheets of nitinol microlattice on Starscream.

If Starscream does win, he can always sneak it out and warp it to the Autobots. With that, he returns to Thundercracker’s side.

“So, uh, I got 5 microlattices on ‘Screamer?” Wide optics turn to him.

“Oh _pit_. I bet 12 cubes. Didn’t say they were low-grade, but it’s still 12 cubes.”

“Are you crazy?! That’s half your rations for two earth months!” Whispering their argument, neither of them seem to notice Prowl has overhead, and makes an unnoticeable exit from their sides.

He can always barter with Smokescreen to cover the Seeker’s bet just in case Optimus loses.   
No mech deserves to go hungry.

“A’right! Rules are simple; Each of ya’s gotta do three laps ‘round the rink! No pushing, no trippin’, an’ first ta complete three laps is the winner!” As Jazz starts a countdown, one that everyone joins in on, Optimus offers a servo to Starscream.

“May the best skater win~.” Scoffing, Starscream shakes his servo with great confidence, a lopsided grin on his face.

“Oh _please_, three is a lucky Seeker number. Of course I’m going to win.”

“We’ll see.” They turn their focus back in front of them as the countdown reaches its final 3…

“...2...1… GO, GO, GO!” Both mechs hunch over, one pede pushing off the other as cheers arise from everyone around the rink, cheering on the one they bet for. Starscream is surprised to hear _his_ designation from more voices than he would expect.

Even the human girl, Carly, and a hoard of younglings cheer his name. Skywarp, obviously is loudest of all, but he can hear one of the pit-spawned _jet-judo twins_, Trailbreaker, and Bumblebee!

Gliding on the ice is like diving through the air. It’s fun, it denied logic, it’s _freedom_. Liberation flows through his lines, his spark pulsing in his chest like it’s growing, like it’s getting warmer, like he’s home again and surrounded by love and accepted-

“They’re coming round the first corner now and- Ohhh!!! Looks like our shootin’ Star shot a little too far, but Optimus makes the turn and!!! He’s in first place! This is cuttin’ edge, folks! Starscream rights his path, but the second corner is dead ahead and- He’s taken over! Oh my Primus, he’s taken over!” 

“Come on, Prime, you can do it!”

“Go, Starscream, go!”

“Use your wings, use your wings! Like Skywarp did!”

“Don’t let a flier win on the ground, Optimus!” The race really is a manner of not who’s the best, but who’s the least worst. Whilst Optimus is slower, he’s better at taking the corners because he doesn’t just crash into the edge then turn like Starscream does.

“It’s th’ last corner o’ the third lap! There’s jus’ this straight to go and- GO OPTIMUS GO! _FASTER!!!_ Starscream’s comin’ up just behind, he _slams_ into the wall and-!!! And!!! I don’t believe my optics! PRIME CROSSES THE LINE, _JUST_ AHEAD O’ STARSCREAM!!! What a race!!! What a match! I gotta tell ya, ma spark is _singin’_!” 

“Ah knew you’d win, Prime!”

“Whoo! You go, Optimus!”

“We knew you could do it!” Starscream takes a deep vent, not letting Optimus’s victory sting. How could he, when the race itself was so _gratifying_? It felt like flight. It had felt like everything he ever wanted. 

And maybe part of that wasn’t the race itself, but the voices around him, the fields full of warmth and fun and _acceptance_.  
Maybe it was all due to the company.

“Congratulations, Optimus.” This time, Starscream is the first to offer his servo, standing regal but relaxed on the ice. Optimus takes it without hesitation, a measure of trust.

“You were a fantastic challenge, Starscream. If it wasn’t for that last corner…” Huffing a laugh through his vents, Starscream places his other servo over a scuff mark on his hip.

“I might have gotten a little _too_ enthusiastic~.” Glancing at the rink around them, the ice carved deep from pedes and thrusters and falling mechs, Optimus rumbles a chuckle.

“I think we all did~.” Without deliberation, Starscream nods. He’s _never_ skipping another Christmas, even if it does mean a ceasefire with the Autobots. The two make their way off the ice, jostled and congratulated by those that greet them by the gate.

Surprisingly, when he had expected to be mocked, Starscream finds they _encourage_ him.

“You did good!”

“Hey, that was awesome!”

“Race me next year!” The claps on the back - careful of his wings - and friendly squeezes to his arms take him back to a time before the war fully reached him, back when he first started at Flight Academy, coming out as the top student of the whole school even though it was his first year.

(It had lost the thrill as he stayed top student, but never lost his pride.)

By the time Starscream reaches his trinemates, there’s a huge grin on his face, and his optics glow almost pink with delight. Or maybe that’s just the reflection of the six Mid-Grade cubes each of them is holding.

“You didn’t bet on me?!” He’s laughing as he says it, watching the tension drop from Skywarp and Thundercracker’s shoulders.

“It was your first time on the ice, Star.”

“Yeah! An’ you saw how _I_ did!”

“Oho, so you though I’d be just as clumsy as you, huh?” Starscream gives Skywarp a gentle shove, Skywarp laughing. 

“Aw, c’mon! TC got you all these cubes!” At a raised optic ridge in his direction, Thundercracker sheepishly ducks behind one of the cubes in his arms, chuckling.

“Merry Christmas?” 

“Say it with more conviction, idiot~.”

“Merry Christmas!” The younglings around his pedes - both the little ones who had been on his shoulders earlier and the swarm that seemed quite taken with the jets - take his cheer as some sort of indication they should do the same, and suddenly, there’s a group of human younglings _screaming_ Merry Christmas, prompting echoes from others all around the rink.

Laughing, the human adults join in, and that in turn inspires the Autobots. Rockefeller center fills with the sound of Christmas cheers, with goodwill and love, season’s greetings shouted at the top of lungs for all the world to hear and rejoice in.

In the clearing by the tree, a band has gathered, and they begin to play music. Starscream watches in wonder as the humans turn to face them, singing along to the music in unison, a smile on the face of even those who were reluctant to be here earlier.

It doesn’t matter if they’re sparklings or adults, if they’re grumpy mechlings or enthusiastic younglings. All voices come together, mixing in one big jumble of happiness. As he looks around at them as much as he can without physically spinning, Starscream feels fluid building up behind his optics.

It’s amazing.  
It’s _wonderful_.

It’s what Cybertron was like at one point, the festivals, faires and street parties of Vos giving him very much the same euphoria and warmth as in this moment here. Looking back to the band, Starscream feels Skywarp lean heavily against his left, Thundercracker resting a servo on his back from the right.

“You’re okay, Star~.”

“Yeah, just let it out, alright? Right here, right now, we’re safe.” With a half-sniffle, half-laugh, Starscream wipes his arm over his optics, brushing away the fluid.

“I don’t ever want this moment to end~...” He shutters his optics closed, just taking in the sounds around him, the joyous singing and whimsical high notes and powerful band. 

It does have to end. At some point, Christmas will be over. They’ll leave this plaza, the ceasefire will end, and it’ll be back to all the fighting.

But for this astrosecond, for this small blip of time in the infinite universe, Christmas exists. The band ends on a strong note, but the crowd keeps going, chanting “so here it is, Merry Christmas!” over and over again.

_Look to the future now, it’s only just begun._

It’s just one sentence, but it means so much. Slowly, Starscream opens his optics, nicking one of the cubes from Skywarp’s pile.

“Give me that, I burned up a whole load in that race.” 

“Hey! You already fueled up beforehand!”

“Nothing stopping you from fuelling up now~.” Skywarp blinks at the logic, shoves four cubes at Thundercracker, and keeps one for himself that he bites open with his denta. 

“... Sky, I can’t _see_ anything now.” The ten cubes piled up in Thundercracker’s arms cover his cockpit and face, meaning that all he’s staring into is a cloudy swirl of glittering pink energon. Skywarp snickers.

“Do you really need to, though?” 

“I would like to.”

“So you can eye up the tree again~?”

“_Skywarp_.” Thundercracker vents a sigh, but as exasperated as it sounds, it’s still good-natured.

“How many time do I have to make it clear that I’m _not_ going to steal the tree? That was _one time_, and a much _**smaller**_ tree.” 

“Oh, TC, one time is just the first time. I remember the first time I stole something, how-” He cuts himself off laughing as Thundercracker kicks gently at his pedes, scuffing snow all up his leg.

“_You_, are a kleptomaniac. I was just jealous.”

“Uh-huh, sure, so you’re totally not gonna take one of the small trees from around the edge then?”

“No!” There’s a moment of silence between them, Skywarp grinning and never taking his eyes off his trinemate as Thundercracker shuffles awkwardly, thinking about the little plane decoration he’d found was also on the tiny human youngling-sized trees around the perimeter of the plaza.

“… Maybe.” Skywarp barks a laugh, finishing his cube with a mighty swig, and taking back his four cubes. There’s not another chance to tease him as suddenly, datapads are being offered to them. Starscream shutters his optics in surprise, recognising some of the glyphs as lines from the song the humans were just screeching.

Hound laughs warmly as he holds them out a little more insistently.

“Sparkplug helped us write the lyrics to these human ‘carols’, so we could join in with the human customs~. You don’t have to, but would you like to join in?”

“_Pit yeah_!!! Finally! A chance to sing without you two telling me to shut up!” Skywarp takes the datapad with great enthusiasm, Starscream and Thundercracker groaning. There’s a _reason_ they tell him to shut up, and that’s because Skywarp can’t carry a tune to save his life.

Although… Maybe it won’t sound as bad in English?

A loud and out of tune Jingle Bells only goes to prove that Skywarp is terrible at singing in any language. Starscream is left visibly wincing, not daring to crouch down on the cold ground like Thundercracker was, as low as he could get so he could join in with the human sparklings.

Sweetly, they were letting him read from their own choir books, one of the mechlings - who was probably just younger than the Autobots human boy - using his finger as a guide for what word they were on, tracing the musical notes for when the pitch went up or down.

Starscream couldn’t hear him from here, or over Skywarp’s caterwauling, but from the fresh giggles that burst from the younglings every now and then, he could only guess Thundercracker was trying his best, but still making little mistakes.

That warm glow in the trinebond assures him that Thundercracker isn’t upset by it though.

Just as the band finishes up on a song called ‘Ding Dong! Merrily on High’, which Starscream honestly thinks they should rename to ‘Gloria’, for all the times it was hollered, his comm link pings with a message.

::// _Starscream._ \\\:: 

He vents a heavy sigh, knowing full well that their time here has come to an end, if Megatron is hailing him.

::// _Yes, Lord Megatron?_ \\\::

::// _Return to base immediately. There has been… A development._ \\\::

Taken aback, Starscream knows his confusion has flooded the trinebond when Skywarp stops ‘singing’ to look at him, and Thundercracker gently nudges a little girl off his knee to stand up again, brushing snow off.

“Time to go?”

“Yes. Though, I’m… Unsure of what awaits us.” Thundercracker and Skywarp share an alarmed look, but it’s quickly soothed by the band and crowd singing a lively, fun edition of Joy to the World.

“Should we let someone know we’re leaving?”

“That would be preferable. I’ll tell Prime, but it might be wise to let that infernal third in command know too, lest he thinks we’re going to bomb the plaza.” The corners of Thundercracker’s lips twitch upwards, and he glances over to spot Jazz having the _best_ time doing some kind of flailing dance along to the song, Prowl next to him with helm in servos.

“I’ll tell him.” 

“I’m gonna say bye to Bee! Ice skating was _super_ fun!” Before Starscream can lecture Skywarp about getting too close to the Autobots - the enemies they’ll have to shoot on the battlefield - the mischief maker has already stashed the energon cubes in his cockpit, and flitted away to find the minibot amongst human friends.

Thundercracker takes that as his cue to do the same, carefully slip through the crowds, making his way over to the TiC without hurting anyone. Sighing, Starscream spots Optimus lingering near the back, content just to watch his troops in this joyous time.

Or maybe he’s recovering from the ice skating race. That took a _lot_ out of a mech’s equilibrium chips.

On closer inspection, he’s not alone. Spike and Carly are there too, sat on opposite sides of the Autobot leader. Optimus looks up as Starscream approaches, nodding politely. He seems to understand the situation just from how Starscream’s wings dip, hesitant to go back to the Nemesis.

“Leaving so soon?”

“Unfortunately. Megatron doesn’t like waiting.”

“That’s a shame. This has been a rather pleasant Christmas.” Starscream vents a weary sigh, pede scuffing at the ground below, shifting snow into a pyramid.

“Thank you.” The Prime’s optics brighten, and Starscream paints on a false scowl.

“For the ceasefire. I think my idiots had... Fun.” There’s a moment where the four stop to watch Starscream’s trinemates, Skywarp laughing and joking around with the younger Autobots - Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Bluestreak, and Bumblebee. And Thundercracker...

“Oh, for _pits_ sake!” He might think he’s being subtle, but it’s incredibly obvious that whilst he talks to Jazz and Prowl, he uses his thruster to slowly nudge one of the mini Christmas trees out of its trough. 

Spike and Carly erupt in laughter, and even the Prime laughs.

“I’m sure the council won’t miss one singular tree~.”

“I-! My apologies, Prime, I have _no idea_ what his fragging _**issue**_ is! He’s a habitual tree thief!” For some reason, that only makes Carly laugh harder. 

Thundercracker seems to realise Starscream knows _exactly_ what he’s doing, paling at the anger and shame directed at him over the trinebond, slowly looking over to offer an unsure smile. 

Starscream glares. Thundercracker waves a little. Starscream cross his arms. Thundercracker shrugs.

Whilst they silently argue, Prowl and Jazz share a knowing, amused look. Jazz scoots around to pick up the tree and blatantly offer it to Thundercracker, who’s cheekplates flush with colour at getting caught, before his optics start to _sparkle_ as the two insist he take it.

He holds his prize gleefully out to display to Starscream, wings wiggling with unrestrained delight. 

Starscream can only roll his optics. Spike laughs so hard he chokes, Prime patting his back to help him vent- breathe. Carly, on the other hand, wheezes so hard that Starscream can only make out the word ‘dork’ through her squeaky monologue.

He hopes she means Thundercracker, not himself.

::// _Starscream!_ \\\::

::// _We’re **coming!** Learn some patience, you ancient piece of malfunctioning malware!_ ::\\\

::// _... You. Do **not**. Use that language with me._ ::\\\

Aww, scrap. Starscream shuts off his comm system with a burst of static. He’s already in trouble because Megatron has less patience than a starved rustwolf, he may as well make the most of it. 

But, better not test it too much.

“Skywarp, Thundercracker! Get over here now!” Skywarp’s wing droop a little, but he maintains his grin as he says his final goodbyes, leaving the Autobots he was talking with in fits of laughter. The split second his back is to them, he pouts heavily.

Starscream pinches the bridge of his olfactory sensor. It’s like trying to corral _sparklings_.

He doesn’t want to leave either! Though… A part of him _is_ happy they’ll be leaving before the Autobots open their presents. 

(He’s not sure how pleased they’ll be with stolen memorabilia, badly-written datapads, and things salvaged from the scrapheap or incineration room.)

As soon as Skywarp and Thundercracker reach his side, Starscream warms up his thrusters, ready to take off before transforming. The other two get the idea, and begin their flight. Just before he leaves, Starscream takes a deep vent in.

“Three weeks from now. Selby, England. Drax Power Station.” With that said, he speeds off, circling the plaza just to show off for the pitiful humans that would _never_ see such graceful flying this close again, and hurries to join his trinemates.

They’re easy to locate even in the dark sky because of the glowing pink energon cubes in their cockpit. And, of course, the battery powered fairy lights on Thundercracker’s tree.

“What took you so long, ‘Screamer?”

“Nothing much. Just… A little present for the Prime.” Whether Prime will understand he’s just been given valuable information or not, Starscream didn’t stick around to find out. If the idiot didn’t work it out from that, he was more stupid than Starscream initially thought.

“Who did you kill?”

“What?! I didn’t kill anyone!”

“Huh, that’s what I would have expected.” Starscream does a quick flip, sending a burst of air Thundercracker’s way to knock him out of formation for a split second. Nothing malicious, just frustrated and in _pure disbelief_ that his youngest trinemate thinks so little of him.

“You-!!! You can’t say anything! You did _exactly_ as I expected!” There’s a long pause of silence, Skywarp desperately trying not to laugh as Thundercracker sheepishly thins the trinebond.

“Okay, yea, but it wasn’t the big tree, alright?” That’s all it takes for Skywarp to star laughing, and Starscream screeches as he sends a larger air ripple to the troublemaker.

“This is all your fault! You’re a bad influence! Your kleptomaniac tendencies are setting a bad example!”

“Hate to tell you this, but we’re Decepticons! We _are_ the bad example~!”

“... I hate that you’re right. Almost as much as I hate admitting you’re right.” Skywarp laughs, performing a little corkscrew to show his joy at Starscream’s rare words.

All too soon, their flight over the ocean brings them into proximity of the Nemesis. The flight home seems like it was shorter, probably because they weren’t lugging a huge net heavy with presents, and were free to do tricks and stunts as much as they pleased.

The tower raising before they’ve requested it suggests either Megatron or Soundwave is in the control room, watching and waiting for the trine’s return.

Shame, because Starscream was hoping they’d have a breem to drop their cubes - and the accursed tree - off at their quarters before coming across Megatron. The trine circles around the tower, slowing their speed for a smooth landing in the small elevator.

_ “Report to my office as soon as you land.” _ The open comm comes from both Thundercracker and Skywarp, possibly so Starscream could hear it, after he’d slammed his own shut back in the plaza.

“Skywarp, how many stashing crevices do you have between here and Megatron’s office?” Landing on his pedes almost soundlessly in the tower, Starscream has his servos on his hips, giving Skywarp a deadpan glare.

If he dares to deny he has any-

“5, but they’re only big enough for one item each.”

“... We stash four cubes and the tree. The other six cubes, we can say we stole from an Autobot patrol on the way back.”

“You’re letting me keep my tree…?”

“I’m lett- Primus, Thundercracker, of _course_ I’m letting you keep the stupid tree! Taking it away would be like kicking a cyberpuppy. Relentlessly.” Although he doesn’t appreciate the reference, Thundercracker grunts in gratitude.

It might just _seem_ like a tree, or a bad habit, but it’s so much more than that. It’s his _first ever Christmas present_!!! It’s the physical proof that they were there, that they had fun and had a Christmas to remember.

The tree, despite how tiny it is compared to him, means big things to Thundercracker.

On the walk to Megatron’s office, the Seekers dart down adjacent corridors, one providing as lookout whilst the other two shove a cube (or tree) into the tiny stashes Skywarp has lying around. Three of the four have evidence of glitter and/or glue in them.

The fourth has a small jar of ferrofluid in, and Starscream decides not to ask as Skywarp tucks it into his subspace instead, just for the time being.

“Ready?” He mutters quietly to his trinemates as they stand outside Megatron’s office, each of them holding three cubes. Thundercracker sensibly holds his in a pyramid formation, whilst Skywarp has his stacked in a tower, chin resting atop it.

“Yea.”

“Better now than never.” Starscream enters all three of their codes, jabbing the button to open the door. Painting on false bravado, he holds his wings high.

“My liege! We have returned!” 

“Yes, so I see… And with energon!”

“Mid-grade, Megatron. _Mid-_fragging_grade_.” Starscream kicks his thruster behind him at Skywarp’s unhelpful addition, though he does notice Megatron’s optics flash at the revelation.

“Most interesting. And tell me, Starscream, where did you and your trine get this energon?”

“We took it from the Autobots, of course!” It’s… Not a lie. More of a half-truth, because the energon did come from the Autobots, but rather than stolen, it was won.

_By my own trinemate betting against me, the fragger._

The bitter thought quickly dissolves into panic as Soundwave looks at him a little more sternly. Oh, frag, his every thought is being read. 

“We? TC got it all, you did nothing but _lose_!!!”

“Skywarp! Shut! Up!” 

“Lose?” At Megatron’s inquiry, the three look off in different direction, optics avoiding meeting his own. A staggered humm from Soundwave - as close to a guffaw as the mech will ever come - clues him in that whatever happened is equal parts stupid, hilarious, and ludicrous. 

One servo comes up to rest his helm against, already feeling the oncoming processor ache.

“Do I even want to know, Soundwave?”

“N-Negative~.” Despite his words, Soundwave sends over an image captured from the three seekers processors, one that _should_ fill Megatron with rage, but instead, has him scoff in amusement. 

An image of Starscream, mid-ice-skate-race with Prime, about to crash into the barrier.

“I have no words. I don’t know how you do it, Starscream, but you have once again left me stunned at your lack of work ethic.”

“Wha-!? Hey! _You’re_ the one who sent us, Megatron!” 

“To _observe_ the Autobots! Not take part in their insignificant human nonsense!” Starscream scowls, debating taking one of the cubes from Skywarp’s tower to throw at his leader. 

“Christmas isn’t insignificant nonsense! It’s-! It’s too good to be human!” Had Megatron not spent vorns dealing with numerous murder attempts, he would have thought Starscream was simply a youngling, in the midst of throwing a tantrum.

“Enough! I can tell just from this short exchange that a debrief would be useless! Now, for other matters…” 

“The development you mentioned over the comm…” Megatron nods, pleased with his second in command’s quick thinking.

“Indeed. Whilst you were gone, the sensors detected a brief intrusion. So brief, in fact, that our security systems merely managed to capture the _idea_ that someone had entered, measured at 650 miles per second.”

“Nothing the Autobots have could be that fast, Lord Megatron!” All of a sudden, the trinebond bursts with excitement from Skywarp. He nudges Starscream roughly, stage-whispering to him unintentionally.

“‘Screamer! _’Screamer!_ 650 miles per second!!! It’s gotta be Santa!” Starscream’s optics widen as if he’s been enlightened, thoughts immediately turning to the three stocking shaped blankets they left on the end of their berth last night.

“We’ll- uh- investigate around, honourable leader. Uh. Merry Christmas!” That said, Starscream darts out the room like a 5 year old on Christmas morning, skidding around the doorframe as he exits.

Thundercracker and Skywarp look to each other, one baffled and the other overjoyed, before Skywarp shoves his cubes into Thundercracker’s arms and warps himself out of there, tackling Starscream further down the hallway.

Shuttering his optics, Thundercracker awkwardly shuffles as he realises Megatron and Soundwave are still looking at him, both of them extremely amused. His processor clocks on surprisingly fast.

“That was a lie, wasn’t it? There was no intrusion, you made that up because _you_ put the presents there.” Megatron splutters, apparently not having thought to cover his bases if he got figured out. Soundwave vents an nearly inaudible sigh. With a slanted smile, Thundercracker shrugs.

“It’s okay, I was the only one who saw your exit logs. I won’t tell them.” He steps forwards, lacking his usual anxiousness around his superiors, passing all six cubes to Soundwave.

“For the cassettes.” 

“... Soundwave; Incredibly grateful.” With a small, casual wave, Thundercracker walks off to rejoin his trinemates. Although they’ve probably reached their quarters by now and half torn down the door.

“Thundercracker.” He freezes at Megatron’s deep tone, field flickering with a tinge of unease. Megatron simply dips his head.

“Merry Christmas.” Stunned, Thundercracker’s optics glow pink, and his mouth opens and closes like a fool. He has to reboot to reply.

“Me- Merry Christmas, Lord Megatron, Soundwave.” He leaves the room in a hurry. Megatron sits back in his throne, quiet chuckle filling the room with a strange, warm ease. Soundwave shutters his visor at the six cubes, unsure how he’s going to get all of them back to his own quarters.

The cassetticons already have small gifts he procured from the natural world waiting for them on their berths, and now, he has a cube of _Mid-grade_ to give them too. And one each! 

“Christmas; Not so bad after all.”

“Of course, Soundwave. Though if I had not put up a front, Starscream would not have fallen for the ‘Santa’ gimmick.”

“Understandable.” There’s a comfortable pause.

“Soundwave, add Christmas to the official Chronometer. I think this ceremony deserves its place on a rebuilt Cybertron.” 

“Agreed, Lord Megatron~. Merry Christmas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone out there~!  
I hope y'all have a fun holiday, and share it with those most special to you!!!
> 
> (I know it's a couple of days early, but I'm working over Christmas and definitely wanted this up before rather than after! :3 Merry Christmas!)


	7. Oops. (Oops, part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, December really did turn into June, huh?  
On another note, it's my birthday! So I thought I'd post a self-indulgent chapter that's been in my head for a while!

“Aww, pit, here we go again.” Rumble’s exasperated comment is followed by a collective sigh from every Decepticon on site, from those that are trashing the human ‘defenses’ to those who are filling energon cubes. 

It seems their fuel raid has been rudely interrupted, _again_.

“Megatron, stop what you’re doing and release the humans!” Scowling, Megatron shoots at the approaching Autobots, and his soldiers follow him without words.

“Third time this quartex, Prime! Why, one would think you’d be _bored_ of this by now!” As the two leaders engage in their usual almost weekly battle, Starscream takes command of the rest of the troops.

“Triple changers, take the left flank! Soundwave, send Ravage, Laserbeak and Buzzsaw after the minibots! Coneheads, aim for the Praxians! They’re covering their sniper! Rumble, Frenzy, make life as _difficult_ for Ironhide and Jazz as you can! My trine, with me! We’ll take right flank!” 

The Decepticons follow his orders as they come, a testament to how much has changed since his full de-frag a kilocycle ago. They trust him now, as does Megatron. Without the glitch that was constantly causing him to turn to betrayal, Starscream has returned to the second in command he originally was, when he had _earned_ that position back on Cybertron.

It’s a good thing for the Deceptions, but not so much for the Autobots.  
Which is _exactly_ why Starscream has been singled out as a prominent target. He’s constantly having to watch his back, look for traps, and stay away from-

“Star! Wheeljack on your right!”

_**Him**_.

Oh, the annoyance of being second in command. It meant he was always subject to the mad inventions of the Autobot scientist, (if they worked), whilst Megatron was battle locked with the Prime.

So far, most of Wheeljack’s attempts had failed - either his inventions blew up on him, or they just didn’t work - but a few of them had caused Starscream a couple of grievances. Especially the last one, where it turned off his anti-gravs.

The Autobots would have been scraping him off the ground if his trine hadn’t caught him just before he plummeted into the earth’s crust. 

“Oh, for Primus sake, again? Really? Just- ignore the slagger for now. His stupid doohickeys never work twice in a row.” 

“Is that- Is that really wise?” If he were in root form, Starscream would have shrugged at Thundercracker’s question. Instead, he just shrugs it off over the trinebond. Skywarp swoops in a little low, narrowly avoiding laser-fire as he pulls up into formation.

“Relax, TC, ‘Screamer’s the scientist, he knows when doohickies are gonna work or not!” Thundercracker is silent, but his concern floods the trinebond as he observes Wheeljack doing some last minute tweaking, and the sniper - Bluestreak - jogging over to his side whilst Prowl and Smokescreen keep the coneheads busy.

“Star, I really don’t think-”

“Then _don’t_ think! Execute maneuver 156.” The seekers pull into a compact triangle, wings almost brushing as they perform a tight turn to go back the way they came, intending to lead the Autobots on the edge towards the main battle.

Starscream is well aware of those pit-spawned ‘jet judo’ twins lurking behind an outcrop waiting for them. This sharp turn ensured they wouldn’t be within range, and would possibly lure them onto the ground.

There would be _no_ jet judo on Starscream’s watch, thank you very much!

“Incoming!” Skywarp’s shout, only just audible above the sounds of the battlefield, disappears in a gigantic, deafening boom, the flash as bright as the sound is loud. A cloud of pink dust swirls in the air like a tornado, and all optics on the battlefield are drawn towards it, the fighting on pause as this crazy explosion gathers and intensifies and _grows_-

Suddenly, there’s three projectiles falling from the cloud of pink smoke, trailing little puffs of the cloud behind them. Wheeljack and Bluestreak gawp, stare at each other, then look back to the pink cloud as it drops from the sky and starts to dissipate over the area where the three projectiles fell.

“It _worked_! It damn worked! Didja see that, Blue?! It froze the seekers in their flight!”

“Y- Yeah! I saw it!” From a dune, Jazz sends a thumbs up.

“Nice shot, Blue! They’ll make a nice addition ta the brig! Just… Not the cell with the hole in th’ wall.” 

The Autobots start to move in on their little experiment, intending to capture the command trine. The Decepticons move to form a wall, whilst Soundwave and Megatron venture into the thinning pink cloud. 

“What were those _idiots_ thinking?! When I get my servos on them, I’ll-!”

“Megatron! Seekers; located!” Megatron silences himself, quickening his steps towards his third in command. He’s only ever heard Soundwave sound this panicked when Frenzy took a nasty shot to the helm back in Tarn. Something isn’t right.

Something is absolutely _not right_. 

Soundwave’s visor flashes with distress as Megatron comes into optical range, crouched on the ground next to…

Three younglings?  
No, two younglings and a _sparkling_.

“... I’m going to shove that Auto-engineer’s tailpipe down his intake and make him-!” Again, Megatron is interrupted, but this time, it’s not Soundwave. It’s a pained groan from one of the younglings - the predominantly red and white one.

_Starscream_ sits up slowly, his optics still shuttered off as he rubs at the side of his helm. He’s so _small_, Megatron notes. The SiC probably only just comes up to his chassis now. 

Skywarp is shorter, probably only a second frame whereas Starscream is a third frame. And then there’s Thundercracker…

The little blue sparkling - just a _sparkling_ \- stirs with a wince and turns his optics on first. Starscream and Skywarp are still too busy running diagnostics to think about observing around them. Oversized red optics blink up at Megatron and Soundwave.

And then reality dawns back on them, Megatron barely dodging laser fire that must have broken through the defensive wall of his soldiers, the Autobots advancing. When he turns back to look at the younglings, Starscream is making a face of disgust at his own tiny servos, and Skywarp shakes his helm, shuttering his optics to get dust out of them.

“Can you fly?” His question draws their attention, and Starscream’s faceplates twist into a sneer.

“Of _course_ I can fly, I’m a third frame, not a newspark!” Skywarp leaps to his pedes, brushing dust off his frame.

“I didn’t jump off Vos tower 72 times to _not_ be able to fly!” His young voice matches the cheekiness of his grin, and for a second, Megatron can only imagine how much more trouble Skywarp is going to cause onboard the Nemesis… 

Lastly, he turns to Thundercracker, but Starscream is already helping the youngest to his pedes. Just by looking, Megatron can tell he’s due an upgrade into second frame soon, but for now, he can barely _walk_ without assistance. 

“Soundwave, take Thundercracker and retreat. Starscream, Skywarp, follow him _closely_. I’ll deal with the Autobots…” As Soundwave scoops up the sparkling with eons of practice and takes to the skies, Starscream following in tetrajet mode and Skywarp in root mode, Megatron readjusts his fusion cannon.

He has a few ‘choice words’ for the Autobots, _especially_ their half-clocked inventor. 

“**PRIME!**” Just the intense and _**furious**_ tone of Megatron’s voice is enough to make Dirge and Blitzwing jump out of his way, allowing their leader to march through with an authority that boils over in rage.

Even _Optimus_ seems to realise that this situation is dangerous, subtly gesturing for Wheeljack and Bluestreak to fall back behind the lines. Headfins flashing a sheepish pink, Wheeljack ducks behind Ironhide, Ratchet, and Smokescreen, whilst Blustreak heads for the safety of Prowl and Jazz, with the twins close by.

“Hold your fire, Autobots, but don’t lower your weapons yet…” Megatron does not halt his advances, storming right up to Optimus and grabbing him by the neck cables, growling right in his face. 

“You are going to explain what the _pit_ you were intending with that _**infernal**_ invention, _**NOW**_!!!!” Optimus shutters his optics. His mouthpiece moves like he’s silently opening and closing his mouth, unable to form words.

“... I… Did not give permission for its usage on the battlefield. Neither was I presented a prototype… Or a demonstration.” He turns to look back at Wheeljack with a disappointed expression, optics narrowed. Wheeljack shrinks back behind Ratchet. 

“Oops...” Ratchet, rolling his optics, pushes him towards the Prime.

“Uh… Ah-ha… Hi, Optimus?” Optimus reaches out and puts a servo on Wheeljack’s shoulder, venting deeply as if sighing.

“Wheeljack, this is the 4th time you’ve used an unapproved invention on the battlefield. What have I told you?” The inventor shrinks away a little bit, his optics flashing towards Megatron’s glowing fusion cannon with a burst of distressed orange in his headfins.

“That I should, uh… Run all things by you?”

“_And_?”

“And… Check they work in a controlled situation…” Optimus nods, but his optics are still narrowed, and he crosses his arms over his chest compartments.

“Exactly. What you have today was not just disobedient, but _dangerous_.”

“I- I’m sorry, Prime. I just wanted to help, the only way I can.” Before Optimus can respond - both to reassure Wheeljack that he’s more than his inventions, and to let him know he’ll be spending time in the brig - Ironhide interrupts.

“Ah don’t see th’ problem, Optimus! We’re fightin’ ta keep the ‘cons doin’ damage, takin’ one or three offline ain’t gonna hurt _our_ side.” 

“Ironhide! They might be Decepticons, but they’re still Cybertronians! The Autobot faction does _not_ intentionally offline opponents!” There’s a touch of aggression in Optimus’ voice, chastising his old friend for thinking so callously - with his battle computer, not his spark.

But Prime’s disappointment is nowhere close to Megatron’s _fury_, and he shouts in rage as he pushes Optimus back to reach out to grab Wheeljack. Ratchet just manages to pull Wheeljack in time to avoid Megatron’s servo, though the warlord doesn’t hesitate in pulling his fusion cannon up to point at both of them. Optimus quickly tackles him and tears the weapon from Megatron’s arm, throwing it clear.

Ramjet recovers it, but rather than passing it back, keeps hold of it. It’s obvious that Megatron isn’t thinking straight. Something has changed, something has set him off, and none of them - except for possibly the seekers and Soundwave who are _not here_ \- know what it could be.

“What did you _DO_!?!? No, let me refrain that! I know what you _did_, but if that is what you intended to do, I will _personally_ strangle you with your own cables!” Wheeljack blinks his optics, his expression somehow being completely void of emotion and stunned at the same time.

“Uhhhh… What- What did it… Do?” There’s a chorus from the Autobots, a wave of surprise and taken-aback vocalizations that Wheeljack would use something without even realising what it did. Prowl even pinches his nasal ridge between two digits. 

Wheeljack hastily holds up his servos and waves them a little to frantically take back his words.

“I mean! I know what it was _meant_ to do, but science is unpredictable and I kinda did some tinkering on the field and-!”

“_Silence_.” Megatron takes a heavy step towards Wheeljack, hissing the word through his denta. 

“- Aaand shutting up.” With a rough shove, Wheeljack is sent back behind the Autobots defence line. Megatron gestures for his army to retreat, but not before some of them grab a few stray energon cubes that the Autobots _haven’t_ managed to blow up.

It’s not much, but it’s enough to settle their tanks until the next raid.

“Listen up, Prime. I expect your miss-clocked ‘inventor’ to _undo_ what he’s done, preferably with supervision this time!”

“Of course, Megatron.” Optimus Prime placates, but then adds as an afterthought;

“... What exactly _did_ Wheeljack’s invention do?” Walking away, pedes hitting the ground a little hard and shoulders hunched over, Megatron turns back around to glower at the Autobot leader.

“You reduced. _Three_ of my soldiers. To _**younglings!!!**_” Well, two younglings and a sparkling, but Megatron isn’t going to waste time getting into the logistics of it. Soundwave should be nearing the Nemesis by now, and as much as Megatron hates to admit it, the TiC isn’t going to able to monitor all three by himself.

Skywarp was bad enough by himself, the equivalent of Rumble and Frenzy with half a processor, twice the energy, and a copper high. 

Starscream, Megatron imagined, would be _unbearable_. He was going to be absolutely furious at being reduced to a youngling, still with the same snark and sass he always has, but the energy of a youngling. Not to mention that he’d probably expect to be treated the same as he was back when he was Prince of Vos…

Thundercracker… Initially, Megatron had no concerns with his condition. Until he remembered certain things Starscream had told him about the blue seekers past. Those memory chips were going to be right at the forefront of his processor, and that processor was going to have _sparkling_ capabilities.

All in all, he was sure that each and every one of the three was going to pose a problem. A problem that, even though Soundwave was practically a miracle worker, was going to need more than one mech to manage.

Maybe even a _series_ of problems, knowing Skywarp’s personality, and Starscream’s penchant for getting himself into trouble.

_::// Hook, prepare the Medbay. We have somewhat of an… Unorthodox… Emergency. \\\::_

_::// I can’t imagine what sort of ‘unorthodox’ emergencies can come from the battlefield, Lord Megatron. \\\:: _

_ ::// The Autobot **Wheeljack** was there. \\\:: _

_ ::// ...Oh. I’ll prepare the Medbay immediately. \\\:: _

There’s a momentary pause, Megatron concentrating on passing over the rest of his troops, their flight slowed down by energon cubs stashed in cockpits and hoarded in arms. A successful raid, in terms of their energon gains.

Not a successful raid by Megatron’s terms. Injuries would be acceptable, but not something of this magnitude. 

_ ::// So when you say ‘unorthodox’, Lord Megatron…? \\\:: _

_ ::// Just prepare your Medbay for now. Have the other Constructicons work on some kind of… Youngling holding centre. \\\:: _

The sharp burst of surprised static over the comm link almost makes Megatron wince. Almost. The Nemesis is in view, and as he lands, Megatron thinks he can hear Mixmaster’s laughter over the announcement system.

He… Probably wasn’t the right mech to leave in charge of the tower. Especially not when had obviously witnessed Soundwave bringing in the… _compromised_... Command Trine. 

Oh, Mixmaster must have been having a hey-day. 

“Soundwave, what is your location?” It doesn’t take long for Soundwave to answer the open comm.

“Soundwave and seekers; heading towards Seeker dormitory.” Underneath Soundwave’s own passive voice, Megatron can clearly hear Rumble and Frenzy laughing, Skywarp shouting over them, Starscream screeching about how something isn’t funny, Ratbat trying to get heard asking questions, and Buzzsaw squawking - the kind he does when he’s feeling particularly bitey. 

“Good. I will meet you there.” Quickening his steps before the other Decepticons arrive, Megatron makes his way through the corridors. He spots a dent in the wall that wasn’t there earlier, a suspiciously seekerling shaped dent. 

It’s not hard to catch up with Soundwave. He’s had to herd all his cassettes _and_ the afflicted trine to their room. Starscream punches in their room code with a scowl, Skywarp punches Rumble for - presumably - whatever caused him to end up denting the wall and Thundercracker…

Is blissfully well-behaved. Soundwave still holds him with one arm, and the sparkling clings back, optics shuttered off and faceplates buried in Soundwave’s elbow and shaking-

Ah. Maybe not so well-behaved and rather, going into shock. Starscream swears and kicks at their door as he mistypes a number because it’s _too high_, and the door refuses to let them in. The loud, shrill bleep of rejection has Starscream curse, Thundercracker flinch, and Skywarp stick a middle finger up at it in a rude human gesture.

“Skywarp! Stop picking a fight and help me!” 

“Okay!” Megatron pinches his nasal ridge with a quiet groan of his engines, moving to intervene, because much to Soundwave’s horror, the seekerlings are now _stacking themselves_, Skywarp climbing onto Starscream’s shoulders.

Soundwave can’t even do anything, because he has one servo full of sparkling, one servo being relentlessly tugged by his own twins, Buzzsaw attempting to rip his comm unit off, and Ratbat clambering over his faceplates. 

“Starscream, Skywarp! Halt this _at once_!” Starscream rolls his optics with a scoff and vibrates his engines in annoyance.

“Oh, puh-lease, Megatron. We’ve done this thousands of times!”

“Yeah, how else would we break into all the _good_ places our creators banned us from?” Skywarp grins, slapping their code in dramatically and motioning as if he’s ‘magically’ pulling the door aside as it opens. He backflips off Starscream’s shoulders with the biggest, mischief making grin Megatron has ever seen.

Yep, Megatron thinks, Skywarp is definitely going to be the biggest menace any youngling in the history of Cybertronians could be. 

The two high-five as they enter the room first. In the meantime, Soundwave has managed to shake Buzzsaw off, shooed Rumble and Frenzy away, and peeled Ratbat off his mouthpiece.

“Cassetticons; retrieve fuel from mess hall.” The twins visors flash in unison.

“You mean we actu’lly got energon for once?!”

“Ya managed ta finish the raid wi’h these three idiots?” Megatron growls at them. This is _not_ the situation for their teasing and snark. Wisely, Rumble and Frenzy head off. Laserbeak manages to nudge Buzzsaw along - or rather, knocks him off Soundwave’s helm and squawks at him - then convinces Ratbat to follow her.

Ravage looks between her siblings and Soundwave, and eventually decides that she’s needed here more than in the mess hall. Laserbeak can manage the others, and even Rumble will gain some common sense if things get too out of control.

Megatron does not shoo her away as he would the others. Something tells him she might be helpful. Soundwave, ever since Megatron had warned his cassettes away, broadcasts light amusement. Much to his credit, he waits until Starscream and Skywarp are squabbling too loudly to overhear them to speak.

“Megatron; Activated parent protocols.” 

Wait.

What?

“... Repeat that.”

“Megatron; Activated parent protocols~.”

Aww, _**pit** no._ Narrowing his optics, Megatron follows Soundwave into the seekers (surprisingly tidy) room, glancing around to get his bearings before scowling at Skywarp and Starscream tackling each other.

“Enough! Skywarp, in the corner, quietly. Starscream, _sit_. You’re going to explain a few things, seekerling.” Soundwave makes a sound that could be a harsh vent or cough to cover what is obviously a laugh. 

It’s then that Megatron realises he’s standing between the two younglings, hands on his hips, looking for all the world like a sire.

Well, scrap.   
Soundwave was right. 

Those rusty old parent protocol programmes he used to protect younglings forced into the gladiatorial arena were back with a _vengeance_. Maybe because he knew these specific younglings?

What’s even more surprising is that Skywarp sulks off to the corner, facing it with his servos behind his back and a pout on his faceplates, and Starscream _sits_ where he is. Arms and legs crossed, and glaring fiercer than a provoked turbofox, but obeying all the same.

It means their own systems recognise Megatron as one of their creators.  
That’s… A small mercy.

Soundwave sits on the seekers berth, carefully untucking the sparkling from the crevice in his arms, holding Thundercracker upright to watch his trinemates. Ravage jumps onto the berth next to them, gently nudging her muzzle against a pale cheekplate.

Ah. Megatron suddenly remembers why Ravage had made his memory chips recognise her as an asset. She’d worked as a therapy cyberanimal back on Cybertron. Her entire _function_ before the war was working with traumatised younglings and sparklings.

An illegal function, but one she’d chosen herself, and Soundwave had supported his oldest cassette in her pursuits. It had gotten them both in trouble with the then-Autobot council, and joining the Decepticons had given them - plus the other cassetticons that existed then - a level of safety.

Now, Ravage’s old coding was firing up again.  
Just like Megatron’s parent protocols, apparently.

“... Right. Well. Starscream!” The eldest of the seekers glares a little narrower. Primus, it looks like he’s plotting to rip a few fuel lines out.

“What.” The biting tone is exactly what Megatron expected. He’s dealing with a stroppy prince. _Great_.

“How old exactly does your evaluation say you are?” The fight leaves Starscream with a soft vent, his plating loosening as he stops tensing up. His servos move to his ankle joints, wrapping comfortingly around them as his wings flutter, pleased that he’s being spoken to like an officer, not a youngling.

“I’d estimate right around the moment we all met each other. That is to say, when my Sire introduced Thundercracker to us.”

“Before we knew TC _was_ TC~!” Skywarp grins over his shoulder, servos now behind his helm, and Megatron raises an optics ridge at him, gesturing for him to turn around and be silent again. Starscream does not seem to mind the interruption, strangely.

“Exactly. I’m comfortably a third frame, Skywarp would be at the age where he’d be thinking of a frame upgrade, and Thundercracker is… Well, you can see for yourself.” 

“Not.” The quiet interjections draws all attention to the little blue sparkling. He winces under the attention, shuffling uncertainly in Soundwave’s lap. Soundwave places a reassuring servo on his helm, and Ravage rests her head on his legs, purring gently. Thundercracker’s large, almost rounded optics, shutter in surprise before he nervously pats her head.

“Thundercracker?” Starscream gently urges him to speak what he’s thinking. Another uneasy shuffle.

“Not first time met… M’not hurt…” An understanding look passes between Megatron and Soundwave. The missing words and broken sentence only proves Megatron’s theory that whatever Wheeljack’s invention did affect the seeker’s processors too. 

They still have all their memory chips and are aware what’s going on, but they’re lacking fundamental functions - like language processors, and developmental centers. 

Starscream’s faceplates soften, and he stands slowly, making his way over to run a servo along the top ridge of one of Thundercracker’s shaking wings.

“Only our age, not physical condition.”

“Oh…” _That’s_ a worrying statement if Megatron ever heard one, and a flare of protectiveness burns inside him. Soundwave too, if the way he holds the sparkling a little closer says anything. 

But then, Starscream has already explained the sorts of facilities Novasong rescued mistreated sparklings from, and made it clear that Thundercracker has not been treated kindly.

It wasn’t that much of a leap to assume he had been extremely malnourished and abused at the time Novasong introduced him to Starscream and Skywarp.

“S’okay, TC! Just means you get to have fun with us instead of growing up in the medbay!” Skywarp’s interjection has Thundercracker still for a moment, but then the tiniest smile stretches shyly across his faceplates.

“Yea. Never- Never got to before…” 

“That said, all three of you will still be checking in with the medbay. Hook has already prepared it under my orders.” Ruining the fragile atmosphere, Megatron finds himself at the mercy of two younglings glaring, Soundwave’s pointed look, and Ravage’s warning growl.

“... It is simply a _check-up_.” Starscream makes a point of shielding Thundercracker with one wing - a possible feat since he’s much bigger than the sparkling. Starscream comes up to Megatron’s chassis, Skywarp is just a head shorter, and Thundercracker doesn’t even reach Starscream’s wings.

Huh. He really was a tiny sparkling.

Megatron scowls in return.

“One scan. That’s it.” Sharper glares and a hitched whine behind a white wing.

“... I will go first, if that shall placate you.” Strangely, that seems to work on Starscream, who lowers his wing with an approving nod. Thundercracker still looks uneasy, but whispers a soft ‘okay’ that gets him a reward pat on the helm from Soundwave, and Ravage brushing her cheek affectionately against one of his wings - making the seekerlet giggle.

The only one not convinced is Skywarp, of all mechs. He leans forward with a half-hiss, half-growl, his wings vibrating with protective anger. Megatron approaches him slowly, lowering himself to one knee so he’s at optic-height with him.

“Enough. Deliberately being difficult will not solve anything. Use your words.” Skywarp shutters his optics in surprise, his posture losing the aggression as he processes Megatron’s _surprisingly quiet_ order.

“... Oh. Uh. I guess… I mean, uh…” His fans spin as his processor works overtime, trying to put the sentence he wants to use through his younging computer. It’s hard, because Skywarp knows what he _wants_ to say, but his computing can’t find the vocabulary! It’s one of the files he’s lost in this age-reduction. 

“I don’t want TC to get stuck in the medbay! We- We _rarely_ got to see him, an’ I know we weren’t trine back then, but we _are_ trine now!” 

“Thundercracker; Will not get ‘stuck’ in medbay. Checkup; Imperative, but quick.” The reassurance from Soundwave seems to put Skywarp at ease, a little more compliant, though he’s obviously still wary.

“Okay. But we get to stay with him. Deal?” He extends out his little purple servo, all digits splayed as he wait for Megatron to shake it. Partly listening to his parent protocols, and partly to humour the youngling, Megatron does so.

Skywarp’s servo is so _tiny_ in his own.  
That protectiveness flares back up in his coding for an astrosecond, before it calms back down into… Contentedness? Calmness? ...Emotions Megatron rarely gets to experience, since he had torn down his own gladiatorial arena, set the captured younglings free, and begun his war campaign.

It only reminds him that there is _nothing_ more rewarding nor wonderful than caring for young sparks, and having them recognize him as a creator in turn.

“Come along. Hook is waiting.” Rising to his full height, Megatron begins to walk out of the room, towards the medbay. He does not let go of Skywarp’s servo. Neither does he protest when _Starscream_ takes his other servo, walking on his other side with a sharp vent, pushing his cockpit out in pride.

He is a _prince_, he shall never walk with shame or embarrassment! Let the other cons stare, they’re not the ones who can now fit into much better ambushing spots.

And he _will_ utilise those ambushing spots.

“Wanna- Wanna walk.” Soundwave hesitates for a moment, the sparkling in his servos leaning over his arms to peer at the floor below. His little wings - so tiny compared to his adult frame, yet still somehow oversized - pulse with anticipation.

“Seekerlet; capable of walking?” Those large, crimson optics, like slanted and rounded diamonds, shutter up at him innocently. A sparkling chirp that Soundwave recognises as ‘please?’ has him almost immediately giving in. He pauses to look at where Megatron has stopped ahead of them, waiting at the end of the corridor.

The warlord peers over his shoulder patiently, whilst Skywarp and Starscream poke at each around his legs, darting back and occasionally tugging Megatron’s servos as they jump back too far.

“Request; regroup at medbay?” Megatron nods. He can understand why the sparkling wants to walk so badly. If he truly had been so damaged when Novasong rescued him, he probably hadn’t had much chance to move around.

“We shall wait by the doors.” That said, Megatron scowls down at the younglings attached to him. He shakes his arms to make them jolt back to standing on each side, Skywarp grinning up at him with no shame, and Starscream averting his optics with a matching scowl. 

Watching his leader walk off, Soundwave crouches low to the floor, with Ravage right next to him. Thundercracker wriggles free, stumbling about on unstable pedes with servos either side of him to catch him if he falls.

It takes a couple of steps and one sturdy hand steadying him, but the seekerlet chirrups with success as his clumsy little steps take him in the right direction. He’s still wobbly, using his arms and wings for balance, but he’s _walking_.

He didn’t get the chance to do that until he was upgraded to second frame back in Vos.   
(The ‘walking’ at the facility didn’t count. That was all tests, all punishments, all fights-)

Before his processor can dip into the dark memory chips that are… Horrifically accessible in this state, Ravage darts to his side, catching him as he tilts too far to one side. She doesn’t move away as he sorts out his jumbled pedes, unconsciously clicking a small thank you to the pantherbot. 

“Progress; will be slow. Thundercracker; should accept help for now.” Venting a frustrated huff, Thundercracker puffs his cheekplates out in what can only be described as a reluctant pout. He doesn’t _want_ help! He’s a full-grown mech who’s fully capable of walking!

Being trapped in this body was nothing short of humiliating.

“I c’n walk.” His grumpy mumble is followed up by a squeak as his pedes cross over, and he falls before either Soundwave or Ravage can react. The floor is not comfortable, nor is it clean, and he pushes himself back up with a grimace of disgust. 

Squawking, his wings flair out in surprise when he finds himself lifted upwards. Ravage has weaved her head between his legs and lifted him up, the seekerlet doing a little somersault until he was laying on his cockpit on her back, clinging on tightly with wide optics, shaking.

The rapid movement - _so much like being tackled, so much like fighting to the death against other test subjects-_ \- sends him spiralling into memory chips he would rather stayed hidden. 

Soundwave, being a telepath, catches glimpses of the memories flickering through Thundercracker’s processor at a pace slow enough to notice, but fast enough that only key details stand out. 

Ravage nudges at his leg as a quiet keen escapes.

“... Soundwave; operating normally.” He pats her helm reassuringly, trailing it back to brush lightly over the wing struts. It works to bring Thundercracker back to the present, and he shakes his helm as if shaking the memory chips away. His optics shutter as he looks around, registering where he is, and he leans forwards slightly to hold on tight.

Ravage starts walking slowly, Soundwave keeping pace besides her. Turning the corner to the medbay, Megatron and the seekerlings are in view.

Megatron is hunched over. Mostly because Starscream is investigating his fusion cannon with _great_ interest, likely knowing he can get away with it whilst in this state. Skywarp, on the other hand, is _on_ Megatron.

Literally climbing on his frame. He has his legs wrapped around one arm, servos clinging to the opposite elbow, and denta biting into Megatron’s knuckles.

“Skywarp, cease this at once!”

“Keep him busy, ‘Warp, I almost have the distance indicator chips recalibrated and upgraded.” Skywarp cackles as Starscream continues tinkering with an incredibly focused expression, though he has a wicked grin tugging at his lipplates. 

No doubt, the scientist part of him combined with his youngling mischief has combined to make him brave enough to tinker with Megatron’s very personal weapon. Either that or he now lacks the patience to deal with Megatron’s cannon being so… _Outdated._

Soundwave stalls.

“Perfect! Now to work on the aperture adjustment…”

“Starscream; relent.” The oldest of the trine gives Soundwave a flat look, one optic ridge raised and mouthplates pinched, silently communicating that Soundwave has _got_ to be joking if he thinks he’s going to stop now. 

Luckily, the astrosecond of distraction gives Megatron enough time to wrestle one arm free from Skywarp and grab the immobilizing handle hidden behind a panel tucked behind Starscream’s wings. The seekerling squawks in surprise as he’s lifted off the ground, unable to kick out or reach up to wrestle with Megatron’s servo.

At the same time, Megatron rolls his shoulder and dislodges Skywarp from his frame, swinging around to catch the youngling around the waist. Skywarp makes a sound of disappointment, but does very little to try escaping. 

“Sky, Star.” Skywarp twists around, grinning when he spots his trinemate pretty much hitching a ride on Ravage’s back.

“Hey, TC! Took your time to catch up!”

“Yea.” Megatron releases Starscream from his imprisonment, the seeker stumbling as his pedes hit the ground. He shoots a sharp glare paired with a pout over his shoulder at Megatron, before walking over to pat Ravage on the head.

Thundercracker slides off one side, almost falling over as his balance chips take extra time to recalibrate. Starscream is there though, steadying his trinemate and holding onto his arms until he’s standing upright, a thankful little chirp slipping through his processor. 

Skywarp closes his optics, his vents whirring as his processor works overtime, and then-

A lilac flash. Not the deep purple it usually is, but a flash all the same, and he’s gone from under Megatron’s arm, now standing just a meter or two away. 

Oh dear _Primus._

He can still teleport.

Oh no. Oh _no_. Megatron and Soundwave share a look of pure panic, suddenly aware just how much trouble Skywarp can get up to. 

Skywarp, who grins, wings wiggling at the freedom, and darts over to offer Thundercracker a servo. 

“C’mon! We’ll help ya stay upright!” The sparkling looks at the offered servo. Smiles faintly. Then takes one arm away from Starscream to take Skywarp’s servo, his other servo moving down to hold onto Starscream’s. Starscream nods in approval, even though he has to hunch over a little bit thanks to the difference in their heights.

It’s _weird_ suddenly being taller than his trinemates again. That hasn’t happened since before their final frame upgrades.

Megatron crosses his arms and watches the three compromised seekers walk slowly into the medbay, the expression on his face almost _fond_. He follows after them, placing a flat hand on Skywarp’s back to encourage him into the medbay further.

“Hook!” His call draws the attention of the other constructicons, and although they know about the seekers condition from Mixmaster, it’s almost impossible to accept until seen with their own optics. 

Bonecrusher snickers unkindly, sinking into the background when Soundwave levels him with a flat stare. Scavenger makes a point of smacking Bonecrusher across the shoulder for his inappropriate reaction. This is an extremely serious situation, after all. 

Scrapper approaches, kneeling down so he’s the same height as the younglings, cupping his chin with one servo.

“Well I never. Mixmaster _wasn’t_ hallucinating.” Starscream hisses and swats at a servo that reaches out towards them, though Skywarp is much more accommodating when it pats his helm, even rumbling his engines in appreciation. Thundercracker, as expected, somewhat hides by tucking himself behind Starscream.

“Where is Hook?” Turning his attention back to Megatron, Scrapper neither rises nor stops giving attention to the one youngling who wants it. 

“He and Long Haul are fetching a few supplies from Bay 3. Something about a pure filtration system? I’m sure it’s most important, if he would keep you waiting, my liege.”

“It had better be…” Just as Megatron growls out what might be a threat, the doors at the opposite end of the medbay, the ones accessible only to the constructicons, open with a slow hiss.

“- always pull this, pull that! Carry this! Put that there!”

“Oh, do shut up, Long Haul.” A momentary pause.

“... And put this over there with the rest.” Ignoring the whining rant Long Haul goes into, Hook wipes his hands clean on a sanitization cloth and quickly comes over to Megatron’s side. He slows his approach when he feels a familiar - though smaller, more immature - frightened field.

His patients might have been reduced to younger frames, but they are still the same patients from before. Keeping his vocaliser quieter, softer, Hook nods towards the seekerlings and seekerlet.

“Starscream, Skywarp, Thundercracker. I see you’ve gotten into a… Situation.” Thundercracker doesn’t seem to know whether he wants to hide from Scrapper, or from Hook. He settles on the latter, since Hook is the official medic, and moves round to hide behind Starscream who now faces Hook, peering out from behind Starscream’s wings.

“They need scans. Preferably full scans, if that would be possible.” Hook nods understandingly, patting the medical berth. Megatron pardons him for ignoring the Decepticon leader, just because the seekers come first at the moment.

They’re suspicious.   
They’re wary.   
They’re _frightened_.

“Alright then, who’s going first?” Pulling away from Scrapper’s servo - which had moved from patting helm to tickling sensitive wings - Skywarp points at Megatron.

“Bucket head! He promised!” Scarlet optics narrow at Skywarp for the somewhat insulting nickname. Skywarp sheepishly grins back, shrugging. Hook merely chuckles, not caring at all about the now-improved fusion cannon on Megatron’s arm.

“I see~. Megatron, if you would, please.” The niceties are _odd_, but it’s all to calm the afflicted trine. Especially one certain little sparkling, who gets more scared the longer they’re there. 

With a grunt, the warlord holds out his arm and slides back a panel of armour to reveal a connection hub. Hook presses a few buttons on the medbay berth, revealing an extendable cable that he plugs into one of the connection ports on Megatron’s arm.

A holographic display pops up on the berth, flickering with static for an astrosecond before it recalibrates. The scan builds an exoskeleton of Megatron on the display, the percentage in the corner showing how much of the full scan was complete.

It doesn’t take long for it to hit 100%, and Hook turns the display to the younglings.

“See? Quick, easy, harmless, and I’ll be able to locate any anomalies or variables immediately. Like how Megatron appears to have a nicked coaxial cable.”

“It is not of importance.” Hook gives Megatron a look most others wouldn’t _dare_ to.

“Not right now, but if left alone, it will expand and render your comm link system completely unsalvageable.”

“... Very well.” Hook pulls out his tools from a drawer built into the medbay berth, working quickly but efficiently to fix the minor break. Megatron doesn’t falter, even though the patch up is in one of the most sensitive places of a mech, keeping his faceplates calm.

Reacting poorly now could ruin their progress, Thundercracker no longer standing behind Starscream and instead watching curiously. As if wondering why it _doesn’t_ appear to hurt when it _should_, his logic clouded by his sparkling processor and those haunting memory chips dangerously close to his conscious.

“There! All done. Your fuel levels are a little low, so I’d recommend refuelling within the next joor. Now, just to disconnect.” A few more presses of buttons - Starscream intently paying attention - and the medbay cable disconnects from Megatron’s connection hub, zipping back into the berth.

“Now that I have demonstrated, which of you is going first?” As much as Megatron wants to command them to get it over and done with, he knows he needs to give the seekers the option. His parent protocols give him the patience needed to deal with the three looking at each other uncertainly.

Eventually, Starscream steps forwards, holding out his arm with narrowed optics.

“I will be putting the commands in _myself_, though.” After a moment of consideration, Hook nods.

“Very well. First, you need to press here…” Megatron stops listening as Hook instructs Starscream through the process, letting the seekerling have complete control as long as he’s doing what he should be. 

Skywarp and Thundercracker have stopped paying attention, one fidgeting in boredom and the other fidgeting in unease. Even if he does flee, the sparkling won’t get very far on unsteady pedes. Not unless he can make it to that dark, cramped little hiding place before anyone can catch him…

“Oh, no you don’t.” His plan is immediately foiled as Scrapper scoops him up in one servo _easily_, passing the pouting seekerlet over to Soundwave.

Thundercracker can _feel_ how disappointed he is even though his visor remains completely void of emotion. Even Ravage tilts her helm like she’s unimpressed.

“Seriously, TC? You’re not _dumb_. Even I know not t’ run when we’re literally surrounded on all sides.” Thundercracker growls through his engines, although he finds himself jostled in disapproval. Soundwave is not happy with him, not at all.

For some reason – probably because of being reduced to a sparkling – that upsets him.

“M’sorry…” The pout only deepens when he isn’t given attention or reassurance. From the medbay berth, Starscream scoffs. He’s perched quite comfortably on the edge of the berth, looking at his own statistics and holo-projection on the display screen.

“You’re going next, Thundercracker.”

“Nuh- No!”

“The sooner you get this over and done with, the sooner you can leave!” Thundercracker hisses, his wings hitching upwards in a mix of agitation and fear.

“Oh, _very_ mature. That doesn’t change my decision.” Skywarp keeps turning to face whoever’s speaking, his helm moving like he’s watching a human tennis match. The argument keeps building until Megatron decides he’s had enough and-

“Stop!” All optics turn to Skywarp, Starscream cutting himself off mid-sentence. The second frame looks between his two trinemates, not caring to cover up the building oil at the corner of his rounded optics.

“Just! _Stop! _We’re not meant to be arguing, we’re trine!!! And in case you haven’t noticed, ‘Screamer, you’re just making this worse for TC! Look at him!” For the first time since they started arguing, Starscream does.

His optics widen and his jawplates move as if he’s trying to say something but doesn’t know the words. His trinebrother – the youngest he vowed to _protect_ \- is shaking behind Soundwave’s arms, lipplates curled up and denta bared like a cornered turbofox.

“See?! I know you’re pissed off - I am too! - but that’s no excuse to take it out on TC ‘cus he’s the only one retaliating to you! We- We’re all fraggin’ affected by this! You’re not the only one suffering, so stop being so selfish, Starscream!” 

“I-... You’re right. You’re right, ‘Warp.” Starscream shuffles uncomfortably on the berth, brave enough to admit he’s done wrong, but not humble enough to apologise. He’s far too prideful for that.

But his trine knows, and they understand what he’s _not_ saying. Skywarp grins.

“You’re forgiven! Well, by me at least.” Both the seekerlings look over to Thundercracker, Skywarp a little tense, and Starscream’s field talking for him - _anxious/apologetic/please_.

Thundercracker’s wings still twitch harshly with irritation, and his cheeks are puffed out like he’s holding back another growl or hiss, but he finally lets all of that tension go with a heavy vent.

“S’fine.” Skywarp steps a little closer.

“... I said s’fine…” Skywarp pokes his cheek. Thundercracker squirms away from him, slapping his servo, but he can’t hide the small twitch of a smile Skywarp’s persistent grin and enthusiastic field draws from him.

“Ok, ok, I forgive!” With a little squeal of joy, Skywarp tugs at both of Thundercracker’s cheeks, stretching them out and squishing them together again.

“I can’t believe you’re this small!!! Like, I remembered, obviously, but it’s totally different to see it again now that I know what you look like in full frame!”

“Shhtchaup!” His speech is distorted by Skywarp’s manipulations, the youngling only laughing as Thundercracker’s optic ridge creases. Starscream hops off the medbay berth, reaching out to grab one of Skywarp’s wrists and tugging him away with a disapproving frown. Skywarp shrugs sheepishly, without guilt.

“Thundercracker, it’s your turn.” Both of them expect him to fight or growl or at least _hiss_, but surprisingly, he just nods. Sensing she is not needed, Ravage makes her way out of the medbay, informing Soundwave that she’s off to make sure Rumble and Frenzy aren’t causing too much trouble. Thundercracker waves a little as she leaves.

Once Soundwave has put him down though, he pushes Hook’s servo away when it nears him.

“Umm! Star!” 

“You- You want me to do it?”

“M- Mhm!” Starscream looks to Hook for permission, surprised when the medic just waves him over and brings up the holoscreen.

“It’s a little different for sparklings, but I’ll walk you through all the steps. You must do _exactly_ as I say though.” Taking the extendable cord from Hook, Starscream flutters his wings in silent agreement. 

“First, you need to plug the scanner cord into the connection hub at the back of the helm, not his wrist strut. That’s for emergencies only.”

“Okay.” Communicating solely through Vosnian clicks and chirps, Starscream somehow convinces Thundercracker to turn onto his cockpit, so he can access the medical port needed. Skywarp isn’t oblivious to the distress coming over the trinebond, moving to the end of the medbay berth so he can hold Thundercracker’s servos.

Bright optics glance at him gratefully before shuttering off in an attempt to stay calm.  
Or at least, from having a full-on freak out.

“You’re doing great, TC, not long to go.” With his optics off, Thundercracker can’t see who it is brushing his helm with a large, full-frame hand, but he can smell the gunpowder, and hear deep, rumbling systems right next to him.

It’s rather strange to think that Megatron has activated parent protocols because of him.  
It’s stranger that he _accepts_ it.

(But he’s never had a creator before, never experienced this line of coding. What’s the harm in allowing it, just this once?)

“Alright, that’s the scan complete! Great job, Starscream. Well done to you too, Thundercracker, maybe this means no more restraints and sedatives?” Ignoring the question, as soon as the cord is disconnected, the sparkling reaches up and wraps his servos tightly around the servo pulling away from his helm.

“Wanna g-go.” Megatron pauses. He looks over to Soundwave, to Hook, and then back to the tiny sparkling on the berth. He’s _shaking_, wings trembling and plating held so close to his body that his field should be undetectable, but there’s still the faint brush of cold terror.

“Once the younglings are scanned and you have the results, bring them to my office, Soundwave.”

“Affirmative.” He watches as his leader carefully - almost _tenderly_ \- scoops up the sparkling with his servos covering almost every inch. Only a small amount of azure paint shows through black digits, two little wingtips poking out above Megatron’s servos. 

“Skywarp, could you get on the berth please? Would you like me to do the scan or Starscream?” Skywarp obeys the request silently, keeping his optics fixed on Megatron’s back until he’s left the medbay. Hopefully, Thundercracker will calm down and stop _flooding_ the trinebond once he thinks he’s safe.

“Oh, definitely you. ‘Screamer will probably give me a virus that makes me twitch or something.” Starscream does not deny it.   
Starscream grins. 

Hook very quickly moves him away from the scanning equipment, and Soundwave puts both hands on the younglings shoulders.

He’s seen the dynamic between these two, and if they act anything like Rumble and Frenzy do towards each other, it’s best to prevent the mischief before it happens.

He fears the seekers pranking each other more than he does their teaming up.

“Hmm… It seems there’s a little bit of an anomaly on your scan. Have you used your warp drive recently?”

“Yeah! Just outside the door. It was harder to use than it usually is, but that’s prob’ly because I’m in my second frame now, right?” Hook humms in contemplation, reading over the screen again.

“And did it feel similar to how you _used_ to use it?” Skywarp searches through his memory chips, mouthplate pursed and optics dimmed in concentration.

“Hmmm… Nope!” Three things happen at once. Soundwave narrows his visor, Hook sighs heavily, and Starscream _shrieks_;

“Why didn’t you say something, ‘Warp?! You utter glitchhead! What if it was serious?! You should have been scanned before me! You shouldn’t be warping around at all!!!” Soundwave has to hold Starscream back, the trineleader intent on beating some sense into Skywarp.

“Relax, ‘Screamer! Just ‘cause it didn’t feel the _same_, doesn’t mean it felt bad. I was trying to use it too much like I normally do. I think, if I use it how I used to, then…” A deep violet flash. The medbay berth is abandoned. Skywarp’s laugh comes from behind them, fading out as all optics turn to him and he realises something.

“Ahaha… Haha… Haaa… I’m stuck in the wall, aren’t I?” 

“Yup~.” Starscream pops the ‘p’ with a self-satisfied tone, obviously amused at how Skywarp has proved him right. Groaning and hanging his head low, Skywarp wriggles his servos like ‘jazz hands’, aware that the only parts of him still in the medbay are his servos, knee joints, and everything above his wings.

The rest of him, however… 

“Scavenger, do you have a moment?”

“Not really, but I suppose this is more… Time sensitive.” Picking up a laser that can slice through pretty much any metal, Scavenger makes his way over to start cutting Skywarp out of the wall. The youngling doesn’t seem too bothered, chatting away like this is normal.

Soundwave pinches his nasal ridge and Hook runs a hand down his faceplates.

“Right… Well…” He looks down at Starscream, curious optics shuttering back as he waits to hear the results of the scans. 

“... All three have extremely low fuel levels. I’d say the transformation into their younger forms used at least 25% of their reserves. For refuelling though, they absolutely _cannot_ have normal, unfiltered low-grade. It would wreck their tanks and fuelling systems completely.”

“Solution?”

“A filtration system. It won’t improve the grade of the energon, but it’ll remove contaminants that’ll poison them. Youngling frames can’t filter like full-frames, and for sparklings, it’ll need to be filtered twice. ...Unless you want a rechargeless night of purging, pain, and waste.”

“Eww… Gross, Hook.”

“That means no sharing our cubes with Thundercracker, right?”

“Correct.” 

“Hear that ‘Warp? No sharing cubes!”

“Fine. It’s usually TC sharing with me anyways!”

“Starscream; Being very responsible.” Starscream preens under Soundwave’s approval, but his attention is quickly stolen by something Scrapper is assisting Bonecrusher in either building or destroying. Scientific curiousity steals Starscream away, wandering over to observe.

Soundwave and Hook watch him silently, and once he’s out of audial range, Hook continues in a quieter voice.

“I couldn’t find anything to suggest this is temporary. Likely, if that Autobot half-clock can’t fix this…”

“Seekers; will age at standard rate?”

“Exactly. The Decepticons will lose their most valuable fliers, a hefty amount of firepower, and _two_ outlier abilities.”

“Megatron; will be displeased. Decepticons; … Will face defeat.” There’s an uneasy silence. Suddenly, something slams into Soundwave’s side, and he looks down to see Skywarp clinging to his leg, grinning up at him with wings hiked up in excitement.

“I got out! See, Sounders, I’m _totally_ still able to warp!” Both Hook and Starscream shout ‘No Warping!’ at the same time in the same tone, but Soundwave only pats the youngling on the helm, getting an affectionate trill in return.

It’s a stark reminded that Megatron isn’t the only one with active parent protocols. 

Scavenger just sighs, already starting on welding up the half-carved wall. Once Skywarp’s midsection had been cut free, he’d been able to warp the rest out, but the metal was still torn as if it had been kicked through.

“Skywarp; excused this once. Course of action; no more warping.” Wide, begging optics look up at him, and those wings wilt sadly, but Soundwave stands firm.

If he was affected by the kicked cyber-puppy look, Ratbat would be the most spoiled creation in the universe.

(Ravage had been slightly spoiled, but thankfully, she hadn’t been too demanding.)

“No. More. Warping.” Skywarp pouts, but seems to realise it isn’t working, and scowls instead. It’s an expression more fitted for his trinemates, though Skywarp makes it seem menacing. Probably because it means he’s planning a loophole.

Just because he likes having fun, does not mean he is _dumb_.

Skywarp is scarily clever - he knows how to get what he wants. Whether that be bending rules to disobey them without actually disobeying them, or luring victims into his pranks.

“This is the filtration system, isn’t it?” Bonecrusher narrows his optics as Starscream leans in too close for comfort, but Scrapper grabs him by the arm and chucks his fellow gestalt member aside to crouch next to Starscream so they’re at the same height.

“Yes! Excellent observation! It’s only sub-standard because we’ve had to patch it together with spare parts, but you can clearly identify the solids filter, the contaminants filter, and finally, the concentration filter.”

“Yeah, it looks kind of like the thing I built to try and make high-grade.” Scrapper shutters his optics. Starscream averts his gaze quickly, mumbling under his breath about not meaning to say that aloud.

“... How functional is it?”

“84%. But I’m missing two core components…” He grins slyly up at Scrapper, optic ridge raised and arms folded smugly as if asking the constructicon if he wants in on it. Scrapper straightens up, looking around the room, and then waves over to Soundwave.

“Starscream wants to see a few projects I’m working on behind the scenes. We’ll be back shortly-” Soundwave can tell something is up from the scheming way Starscream rubs his servos together, his optics bright with opportunity, and his wings move up and down in the same way they always used to before presenting a… Particularly dangerous invention of his.

What _is_ it with scientists and being somewhat crazy?

Using the excuse that this is for the good of all those onboard the Nemesis, Soundwave activates his telepathy, reading Scrapper’s mind. He could have read Starscream’s, but he doesn’t want to risk his telepathy waves messing with a youngling’s processor.

“Halt. Absolutely _not_.” 

“It- It’s just a few little, uh, things… From cobbled together scrap… Starscream is most interested!”

“It’s a scientist thing, Soundwave! _You_ wouldn’t understand! I, a profound and amazing scientist, see opportunity in even assembled scrap!”

“Starscream; may continue pursuit of high-grade in full frame.” Growling, Starscream kicks at the floor, crossing his arms tighter and drooping his wings.

“Scrap! I should have known he’d read our minds… That’s your fault for acting suspicious, Scrapper!” Shaking his helm, Scrapper nudges the youngling back towards his temporary caretaker.

“Once this is solved, ask me again. I’ll gather a few helpful items.” Starscream nods, reassured, and marches confidently back to Soundwave.

Soundwave, who’s expression suggests there is a loooong lecture about high-grade in the future. Bonecrusher passes over the completed filter with a grunt, probably not happy about having to do something so delicate and careful.

Then, it’s time to leave the medbay. Skywarp clings to his leg, laughing to himself as he’s carried around simply by Soundwave walking.

Luckily for him, Soundwave is long used to this and has incredible patience.

“You’re being rather an _embarrassment_, ‘Warp.”

“Can’t be an embarrassment if I have no shame.”

“Well, that’s just sad, now, isn’t it?”

“That’s why _you’re_ sad, you shameful, sorry seeker~.” Starscream splutters, then shoves at Skywarp roughly. Skywarp only laughs, clinging onto the leg tighter.

“Seekerlings; _behave_.” Soundwave taps both of them on the olfactory sensors in turn, a gesture that has Starscream reflexly scrunch up his faceplates. He narrows his eyes at the communications officer, but calmly falls into step next to him all the same.

At some point, Skywarp drops off Soundwave’s leg and proceeds to jog to keep up with them. Soundwave’s step are much larger than his, and Starscream has always walked annoyingly fast.

Fast flyer, fast walker.

The journey to Megatron’s office - though it’s more like a secondary observation deck near his quarters - is unexpectedly quiet and _without_ incident. That’s rare with younglings.

“TC!” Skywarp calls out as he bursts into Megatron’s office, the door open to anyone and everyone who needs to relay something to their leader. The open door policy is new, something that’s only been happening for a few months.

It says something for how Megatron is developing as a leader, falling comfortably back into the values he originally led by. 

“Quiet.” Megatron’s snap lacks the bitter bite it usually does, and the reason for that is immediately obvious. He’s leaning back in his throne, (Really just a normal chair, but the term had stuck), slouched, and there on his chassis, supported by one large servo...

...Is a recharging sparkling.

The tiniest vents can be heard under the rumble of Megtron’s systems, slow and steady, and the wings on Thundercracker’s back flicker in recharge as if he’s having a reflux about flying. His arms are wrapped tightly around Megatron’s other servo, clutching it close and resting his cheekplates on the back of the servo so his neck cables aren’t strained.

It’s almost… Cute. Starscream snickers.

“I didn’t peg you for a _cuddler_, mighty Megatron!” Megatron narrows his optics at Starscream in a glare, both reprimanding his comment and telling him to keep his voice down. The seekerlings move further into the room, Starscream moving over to the control panel to _try_ and reach it, whilst Skywarp wanders around investigating things from this new perspective.

Soundwave sets up the filtration device in a corner of the room that will hopefully avoid any chaos, considering it’s one of the only parts of the ship _not_ covered with a blast mark, a dent, or faint gunpowder residue.

“Filtration device; Ready for use.” 

“You know where the dispenser is, Soundwave.” The trust Megatron places in his officer is apparent when he shutters his optics off, resting alongside Thundercracker, and content with the warmth of his tiny frame on his chassis.

The parent protocols slow down his systems, lulling him into light recharge because his ‘creation’ is close, safe, and protected.

Soundwave spares Skywarp and Starscream a glance as he fills a cube from Megatron’s dispenser, making sure Skywarp in all his mischief doesn’t get close enough to disturb them. 

Fortunately - or perhaps **un**fortunately - Skywarp has joined Starscream’s endeavour, boosting his trineleader up onto the control panels, and warped there himself. The two are giggling maniacally as they send commands on the silent com system to _everyone on the Nemesis_.

For now, it’s harmless, only confusing those on duty. Stupid ‘commands’ like walking around the perimeter of the room five times, doing a backflip, or punching onesself in the faceplates.

… Okay, maybe not _harmless_, but it won’t affect the Decepticons in battle.

With four energon cubes in arm, there’s not much Soundwave can do to intervene anyways. (Truthfully, he’s a little amused by the seekerlings antics). The filtration system is set up so simply, that all he has to do is place a full cube on the top and empty one at the bottom.

It’s a slow process, but an important one. Once done, the filtered cube glows so brightly, it’s gone from bubblegum pink to neon pink, so bright it almost blinds Soundwave. He adjusts his optics accordingly before adding some supplements Hook slipped him whilst Starscream was distracted.

The copper dims the glow, cobalt turns it a slightly lavender hue, and the tungsten powder floats atop it in a silvery shimmer.

“First cube; Prepared.” Two pairs of optics whip to him with terrifying speed, lingering for a moment, before looking to each other.

“I call dibs!”

“I am your _leader_, I get the first one!”

“I used more energy ‘cus of warping!”

“I’m oldest!” The seekerlings squabble, tackling each other and wrestling. They’re tugging at each other’s faceplates, nipping at digits, and smacking each other with their wings, but Soundwave sees no need to interfere as he watches the second cube filter out. He adds the supplements again, before marching over and lifting the seekerlings by the waist under an arm each.

“Starscream, Skywarp; may _both_ have cube.”

“Oh.”

“...Oh.”

“Thanks, Sounders!” He lets them go near the cubes, and they both rush to pick one up, tanks starved of fuel. Not just because of the situation which has landed them as younglings, but also because their tanks were running low _before_ battle.

Soundwave had a theory that they were so small because they’d been malnourished when hit with Wheeljack’s invention. Constant hunger was a cruel truth of the losing side of war. Silently, diligently, he starts filtrating the third cube whilst sipping on his own.

A gentle trill draws his attention back to the seekerlings.

“Don’t recharge here, ‘Screamer…”

“Shurrup. I’m using you as a berth.”

“Then what am I s’pposed to use?”

“The floor.” Skywarp whines, though he doesn’t move away as Starscream powers down against his shoulder. Holding back a laugh, Soundwave moves over to them, picking up the half-asleep youngling like he would any other. Starscream shifts in his hold, readjusting.

“Seekers; may return to their berths.”

“Soundwave.” Megatron’s interruption is unexpected, making Skywarp jolt back to full awareness. He’d thought Megatron was in recharge!

“They may use mine, for now. Leave the door open.”

“Affirmative.” As Megatron reboots, Soundwave takes the seekerlings through to the connected room, Megatron’s own quarters. They’re practically bare, the walls a lighter purple than the rest of the Nemesis from where it’s been meticulously polished and cleaned. 

Gently, Starscream is set down on the berth, curling up on his side with his wings hanging over the edge. Skywarp lethargically clambers over him, ignoring the hiss he gets when he steps on Starscream’s servo, and nestles up close to him. There’s a small gap between them.

“Query; Comfortable?”

“Mhmm.” 

“Yeah, we just need TC now.” As if summoned by the offhand request, Megatron enters the room, Thundercracker still mostly in recharge. He quickly settles into a full cycle once he’s set between his trinemates and coddled on both sides.

A thermal blanket is tucked neatly over the three, carefully pulled up to their chins to keep them warm. Younglings and Sparklings have very little control over their heating systems when in recharge.

As soon as all three are in deep recharge, Megatron chuckles warmly.

“Well, now, that was almost _easy_.” Nodding in response, Soundwave says nothing, hoping that Megatron won’t continue and say those forbidden words, the ones that are cursed, the ones that will _jinx_ them.

“Whoever said raising younglings was hard was wrong! This will be a piece of cogcake.”

Slowly, dramatically, Soundwave turns to face Megatron with his field a mix of horror and annoyance. He just _had_ to say that, he just _had_ to voice those exact, accused words!

“... Megatron; Has nasty surprise coming.”

He would find out just how ‘easy’ it was once the trine woke up from their recharge, energised and ready to _riot_.


	8. Uh-oh. (Oops, part 2.)

_ “This will be a piece of cog-cake!” _

_ Slowly, dramatically, Soundwave turns to face Megatron with his field a mix of horror and annoyance. He just **had** to say that, he just **had** to voice those exact, accused words! _

_ “... Megatron; Has nasty surprise coming.” _

_ He would find out just how ‘easy’ it was once the trine woke up from their recharge, energised and ready to **riot**. _

It’s quiet in Megatron’s quarters. From the chair in the corner, there’s a gentle rumble of Megatron’s engines as he recharges. From the floor, leaning back against the berth, a soft vent escapes Soundwave every now and then, also recharging.

Then, a whispered snickering. An immature ‘shh!’. A gasp of discovery and delight.

Because whilst Megatron and Soundwave recharge, Starscream and his trinemates are a completely different story. 

“Look at this!” With a hushed, excited whisper, Skywarp drops a small object from the shelf he’s warped onto down into Starscream’s waiting servos. It’s just a little metal figurine, but it’s clearly hand-crafted. Judging by its age and composite, it’s probably from the mines.

“It’s admirable, but not what we’re looking for. Put it back.” Starscream throws it back up and Skywarp catches it, placing it where it should belong back on the shelf. Starscream goes back to rummaging though the bottom drawer of Megatron’s storage space.

His drawer is pulled out all the way, the second drawer almost as much, and the top drawer just enough for a sparkling to sit in. Having climbed into that top drawer, Thundercracker picks up and examines a pot of polish with a thoughtful expression.

“What _are_ we lookin’ for?”

“...”

“You dunno, do you?”

“Anything interesting! Just! Keep searching.” Starscream glances over his shoulder at the two recharging mechs with a burst of panic at a loud creak.

Mysteriously, neither Megatron nor Soundwave have moved.

So, what…?

“Sky!” Thundercracker points up to where the shelf has very slightly tilted, a crease of metal fatigue running along the wall. Skywarp clings to the angled shelf, stopping a very fragile crystal sliding off with his thruster. He shutters his surprised optics.

“... Uh-oh.”

The shelf completely gives way. With a yelp, Skywarp and everything on the shelf come tumbling down directly above his trinemates and-!

A black blur leaps onto the top of the storage space, sheltering Starscream and Thundercracker at the same time one dark blue servo slams against the wall, other arm catching Skywarp and tucking him in against a chassis.

Ravage shakes off the debris as Soundwave vents in relief that all three are unharmed, standing up straight with Skywarp still in his arms. The youngling gives him a sheepish grin and forced, nervous giggle. Soundwave narrows his visor.

“Current activity; _Dangerous_.” He gives a pointed glare to Starscream, no doubt the mastermind behind this snooping.

“Desist.”

“Urgh! Fine! But only because Megatron has nothing _interesting_ around here.” Soundwave continues to give him a stern look until Skywarp fidgets, obviously uncomfortable from where he’s been caught by one arm mid-fall. Gently, because the youngling may be shaken up, Soundwave lets him down.

Glancing over his shoulder, he shakes his helm as he discovers Megatron has miraculously _recharged_ through it all. That said, he won’t be pleased to rise to his shattered personal items and a destroyed shelf.

“Seekerlings; Will take responsibility by fixing this.” Starscream scoffs, shoving away Ravage as she tries to check him for any injuries from the falling objects, having already given Thundercracker the all-clear.

“You seriously expect the three of us - trapped in these stupid frames - to weld a shelf back to the wall?”

“No.” As Starscream’s face lights up, Soundwave fights back a soft smirk that doesn’t quite perk his mouthplates up. He reaches into the top drawer, carefully lifting out Thundercracker.

“Expectations; _Two_ of you shall fix this.”

“Wha-!?”

“Thundercracker; Requires refuelling.” The blue seekerlet nods in acknowledgement, having been trying to ignore the warnings flashing across his sensors since he came out of recharge. It had just been too _tempting_ to join his trinemates.

Even if he hadn’t agreed with what they were doing, he was doing something with them, and that meant everything to him. 

Soundwave leaves the room with seekerlet in arms, leaving Ravage to watch over Starscream and Skywarp as they realise they have to _fix_ this. She’s fully qualified, having watched Rumble and Frenzy many a time. Ah, the pains of being the eldest co-creation.

One Starscream shares in spirit.

Because although his trinemates aren’t his brothers by creation, they’re his brothers by choice.

“Stop trying to steal items and help me, ‘Warp! No! Don’t touch that with bare servos! Don’t be an idiot!” Skywarp pauses in where he’d reached down to pick up a shard from the shattered crystal. He already had many items in his arms, and an image-type datapad comically slips out of them as he freezes in place.

“... I ain’t stealing it, I swear!” 

“Put that slag down until we’ve fixed the shelf.”

“Okay!” Opening his arms wide, Skywarp drops what he’s collected with absolutely no grace. The clattering on the floor is followed by the sound of Megatron’s circuits stirring into activity. Both seekerlings freeze, their gazes fixed on him.

Fortunately, Megatron only stirs before settling back down.

Venting a sigh of relief, Starscream turns back to the seemingly impossible task at hand.

“First, we need to find a blowtorch to weld the shelf.”

“On it!” Skywarp scrunches up his faceplates, optics closed and servos balled in front of him.

“Soundwave forbid you from warp-! And he’s gone.” Venting an exasperated and somewhat annoyed sigh, Starscream puts his servos on his waist and looks up to Ravage, still standing atop the storage space with the shelf balanced on her back.

She must have decided to help them.

“Do you have to put up with this from any of _your_\- ...I just remembered you have to deal with Rumble, Frenzy and Buzzsaw.” Ravage nods.

“Wow. Sorry.” Amazingly, there’s no sarcasm in that statement, just a humourous sympathy. Ravage purrs her own version of a laugh. Sometimes dealing with her co-creations can be rather testing. Thankfully, Lazerbeak shares that burden, and Ratbat is well-behaved compared to his older brothers.

A bright flash of violet and loud ‘VOP’ are the only warnings Starscream has before a blowtorch is shoved against his cockpit. He catches it with both servos and glares at a grinning Skywarp.

“This is from the med-bay.”

“Yup!”

“Did you _ask_?”

“... Sorta.” Starscream narrows his optics a little sharper, wings flicking backwards. Skywarp just sighs and clambers up the storage space drawers to stand atop it, holding a servo out to help Starscream up.

“I said I was gonna borrow it for like, 3 breems, and Scrapper said ‘make it two’ before I warped back.”

“That’ll do.” Skywarp and Ravage move the shelf back into place, lined up with the discoloured crease where it had fallen from the wall. Carefully, with a scientist’s precision, Starscream welds the shelf back in place.

The blowtorch is hard to control whilst he’s stuck as a youngling, his servos too small to operate it properly. The weld is messy. Megatron would have to be _blind_ not to see this evidence of destruction. 

“And _what_ is going on here?” Suddenly, Starscream wishes Megatron _was_ blind. 

“Uh- It’s ‘Warp’s fault!!!” 

“What!? ‘Screamer!”

“Well it _is_! You sat up there!” Skywarp sticks his glossa out. Megatron gives a weary vent, pinching the bridge of his olfactory sensor. Deciding it is better not to ask, he simply reaches out and steadies the shelf with a single servo, relieving Ravage of her service.

He doesn’t _dare_ try to take the blowtorch from Starscream.  
That would guarantee melted faceplates.

Ravage elegantly leaps from the storage space in all her cat-like majesty, slinking out of the quarters and into Megatron’s office. Soundwave sits cross-legged on the floor next to the energon filter, diligently tapping away at a datapad. Thundercracker leans back against his legs, tiny servos clamped around a double-filtered cube that’s _only half_ his current size.

Soundwave glances up and gives his oldest creation a welcoming nod as Ravage moves to his side and curls up by his knee joint. 

There’s a comfortable moment of near-silence, although they can still hear Starscream, Skywarp and Megatron in the adjacent room.

“M’full.” Barely a quarter of the cube is gone, but with shrunken tanks, the sparkling doesn’t need much to reach 100%. Thundercracker lifts the cube up, intending to pass it to Soundwave so he can put it somewhere safe, but as he lifts it, it tilts the cube.

Energon spills out the hole he’s gnawed in it, splashing all over him.

“... Ew.” He shakes his helm vigorously, sending splatters of energon around, Ravage backpedaling at the sticky, sparkling-grade energon. _Too_ sticky, in Thundercracker’s opinion, because it’s covering his optics and he can’t shake it off.

He can’t wipe it off either, since the energon _covers_ him, servos and all.

Soundwave’s field radiates mirth and his engines gently rumble as he reaches down, one servo cupping Thundercracker’s chin to make his tilt upwards, the other hovering a few centimeters from his faceplates.

“Hold still.” A thumb digit carefully brushes over Thundercracker’s optics, removing the sticky energon that’s blocking his sight. He flinches heavily at the first touch. Soundwave patiently withdraws, waiting until Thundercracker nods in permission. He doesn’t flinch as much the second time.

It’s a gentle, tender moment. One that Megatron, watching from the doorway between his office and quarters, doesn’t have any intention of interrupting. The little nuisances who activated his parent protocols though…

“_Really_, Thundercracker, you’re supposed to eat it, not bathe in it.” Skywarp snickers as he high-fives Starscream for his snark, the eldest of the three smirking as he cocks his hip out to one side, a servo resting on it. Tiny faceplates screw up in a tight frown.

“Shurrup, Star.” The smirk disappears, though Skywarp snickers a little harder at Starscream’s misfortune. His trineleader smacks him with the back of a servo for it. 

“Hey!” About to shove back, Skywarp suddenly finds both himself _and_ Starscream suspended off the floor, the handle on the back of their wings grabbed. Megatron shakes them lightly.

“_Enough_, you relentless little pitspawns. Skywarp, you have a tool to return. Starscream, I asked you to gather anything your trine will need from your quarters.”

“On it!” Skywarp clutches the burrowed blowtorch to his chassis, squeezing his optics closed and puffing out cheekplates as he concentrates.

“No warping!” Starscream is too late to grab Skywarp’s shoulder - not that that would help the situation - and the youngling disappears in a flash of deep purple. Throwing his servos in the air with an ‘Urgh!’ of defeat, the only thing that stops Starscream marching to the medbay to confront Skywarp, is Megatron steering him towards the corridor.

“To your _quarters_.”

“And what if I don’t _want_ to?!” 

“You will follow my orders!” Starscream digs his thrusters in stubbornly, but all that results in is a horrible screeching noise and gouges in the floor as Megatron pushes him onwards. Megatron pauses in the doorway to speak.

“Take Thundercracker to the wash rack whilst I deal with this pest.” 

“Pest?! Why, I should-!” Starscream’s complaints are cut off as Megatron shoves him into the corridor a little harder, the door sliding shut behind them with finality. 

Soundwave sighs. He turns back to an eruption of quiet giggles and squeals, trying not to laugh as he observes Ravage holding the sparkling to the floor, pinning him gently with one paw across his legs, lapping at the sweet energon covering him in an attempt to clean him.

“Ravage; Desist~.” The pantherbot backs off obediently, though one of her ears flickers in contempt at leaving Thundercracker so mucky. Soundwave gives her a rare, affectionate scratch behind the ears before he picks Thundercracker up, and follows his orders.

Which is why Skywarp warps back in to an empty room.

“Uh- Hello?” His only answer is silence. To any other youngling, a situation like this would be anxiety inducing, bringing up worries of abandonment, or sending them into a cacophony of chirruping calls for their caretaker.

To Skywarp - grin from the pits dawning on his faceplates - this is a situation of _opportunity_.

“Hellooooo, control panel~.” He warps himself onto the control panel, rubbing his hands together with a cackle at the unrestrained access to _everything on the ship_. Of course, with his outlier ability, he could go anywhere. But with _this_...

He could make anyone do anything he wanted. Without Starscream stopping him from ‘going too far’. Pah. As if having fun was going too far! All it took was a few very easy presses of the buttons to issue commands…

“Let’s see…Which buttons control the cameras…?” Crawling across the panel, Skywarp doesn’t notice his knees pressing some buttons and pulling at levers, until he looks up at the display screens to see _havoc_.

“...Uh-oh.” Water floods in through one of the rooms that had been closed off in The-Carly-Incident™, the ocean taking advantage of a released magnetic seal to pour through the corridors like a tidal wave.

Scrambling back down, Skywarp frantically tries to work out what he accidentally did to deactivate the magnets holding that particular bulkhead closed.

“Oh, frag, frag, scrap, slag, _frag_!” The panic builds as the water breaches more and more rooms, flooding corridors and it’s starting to get near the storage rooms and-!

“Get out of the way, moron!” A lilac-ish silver servo knocks him asides roughly, yanking down a lever and turning a sharp glare onto Skywarp, lying sprawled on the floor from being smacked. 

For a split second, Skywarp remembers what it is to fear.

“Are you _trying_ to destroy this ship more than you already have!?” Shuttering his optics, Skywarp swallows down his fear to force a nervous grin on his faceplates. Strange how Astrotrain looks _so_ much more intimidating from this angle.

“... Yes?” Astrotrain doesn’t even bother trying to hide his annoyance and exasperation as he drags a servo down his faceplates.

“You are the last mech in this universe that should be left unsupervised, youngling or not. Or, let me rephrase that, you should _absolutely_ be supervised, always. I don’t _**trust**_ your penchant for destruction.”

“As you shouldn’t~.” Kicking his thrusters against the floor and fluttering his wings with a bright grin, Skywarp looks the picture of innocence.

Astrotrain is not fooled.

“Yeah, no. I’m comming Megatron and you’re coming with me.” Skywarp rolls his optics, flopping back against the floor so his wings press flat against the metal. As if it wasn’t bad enough to be turned back into a youngling! 

Suddenly, he grins, devious and devilish.

“You wanna supervise me? Well, first-!” 

“Skywarp, don’t you dare, you pain in the aft!”

“-You gotta _find_ me!” A bright flash of violet. The space Skywarp previously occupied is now void, and Astrotrain almost crushes his own comm link with a growl, thankful that he hadn’t contacted Megatron yet.

And apprehensive about whatever Skywarp is planning. He gets up to _enough_ in his full frame. Powered with the endless energy of a youngling and able to squeeze into more places?

Primus help them.  
_Unicron_ help them.

With a sigh, Astrotrain reluctantly activates his comm unit.

“Lord Megatron? We have an issue.”

_ “WHAT?” _The furious tone suggests Megatron is having difficulties of his own. For an astrosecond, for the sake of his own mortality, Astrotrain considers terminating the call and flying to Cybertron.

“Skywarp has made a bid for freedom. Not before destroying section C6 though.” Silence. Astrotrain briefly considers that Megatron has gone after Skywarp himself, but then realises it’s more likely that he’s about to become a flaming scrapheap.

What is actually happening is that Megatron has had to put the conversation on hold because Starscream is being… Well, Starscream.

“If you think I’m leaving my time-sensitive chemical experiment _unattended_, for however long I’m stuck like this, you have rust instead of the outdated processor I thought you did!”

“Put! Those corrosives! _Down_!”

“They won’t _**be**_ corrosive if I keep tending to them!” Starscream kicks his legs in the air as he squirms to get free, Megatron holding him off the ground by his wrists to prevent him from just grabbing the chemicals.

Growling, Megatron shakes him lightly.

“You. Are a youngling. _That_. Is a purple-”

“Byzantium!”

“-bubbling-”

“Broiling!”

“- _highly corrosive_ liquid! It is not to be played with!”

“It’s an advanced experiment the likes of you wouldn’t understand, and it’s not to be neglected! I am a scientist, and I _will_ science!” Megatron’s optics narrow. Starscream sneers back.

“I already have to deal with damage caused by your _menace_ of a trinemate, I will not have you _corroding your servos off_ because you are unhinged.”

“Unhin-!?”

“You are to discard this experiment.”

“No!!!” Starscream’s field flickers with a beat of despair. This is _crucial_. It’s something he’s been working on for almost two earth months, and it’s nearly complete! To abandon it so close to the results is to have worked so hard for _nothing!!_

“No! I won’t! You don’t understand! You stupid-! I hate you!” Releasing Starscream’s wrists, Megatron drops the youngling to the floor, but before he can spring away to his experiment, Megatron turns him around by the shoulders, holds him in place by the upper arms, and goes down on one knee to be optic level with him.

“Then explain it.”

“Wha-... Huh?”

“If I don’t understand it, _explain_ it to me.” Starscream shutters his optics. His jawpiece opens and closes like he’s _trying_ to form words, but is too stunned. Megatron raises an optic ridge. 

“If you’d prefer to just scrap this-”

“_No!!!_ No, I’ll- I’ll explain!” He ex-vents deeply, faceplates shifting from shocked to serious.

“Our energon reserves are scrap. They’re steadily being depleted because it’s _low grade_, meaning we have to consume more to function. One big raid a month is keeping us just about even with consumption costs, but for how long?” Starscream pings Megatron a data packet.

“As the numbers clearly show, we’re acquiring cubes at the same rate as before, grabbing what we can as we retreat from the battlefield. Our _consumption rates_, however, are steadily increasing. Low Grade isn’t sustainable. It’s filling our tanks with some disgusting sludge that needs _surgery_ to remove, and that sludge in turn is absorbing the energon we consume.”

“Yes, Hook’s recommendation was to increase rations until he can obtain enough med-grade to perform the surgeries.”

“But that's not _enough_! We can't increase the rations if we don't have the energon in store to ration. The best way- No! The _**only**_ way to solve this is to increase the _quality_ of our energon.” Starscream gestures to his experiment, looking for all the world like a mini teacher.

“These three conical flasks are filled with energon we've taken from different sources. The first one from a coal plant.” He waves a servo in front of the darkest of the three purple vials.

“The second from a solar energy plant.” This vial is the brightest, nearly magenta. It looks well on its way to being mid-grade. Megatron nods in approval. 

“And the last sample from nuclear energon. I… Don't have much hope for this one.”

“Understandable. It's rather blue.”

“It could still be viable, but I doubt it's edible.”

“Viable?”

“Yes, perhaps as a sedative, an adhesive, or a weapon. I'll only find out after testing it once the experiment is finished.” Humming in contemplation, Megatron rubs at his chin. On one servo, he can see the benefit of this experiment, and it's dearly needed. Only Starscream would be capable of such genius, and it's clear that there's a lot of love and care put into this.

On the other servo, Starscream is currently trapped in the frame of his youngling self, which has the added side effect of reducing his emotional and mental processing unit to such.

Just the _thought_ of letting a vulnerable seekerling play with corrosive chemicals sends Megatron's parent protocols spiralling into alarms.

But if he doesn't let Starscream do this...

“You may continue, but not alone. I want Mixmaster to supervise when you're in your lab, and you are not to lay a _servo_ on those flasks.”

“But-!”

“Those are the rules, Starscream! If you don't oblige…” He doesn't need to finish the sentence for Starscream to know it's a threat to get rid of the experiment. Young, red optics narrow as Starscream scowls, but he clenches his denta and calms himself with a long, slow vent.

“Fine. _Fine_. I suppose I'll just have to put up with that.” He turns on thruster, marching out, and Megatron shakes his head in exasperation as he follows. In the middle of the seeker’s main quarters is a large box, filled with Starscream’s pickings of what’s most important to come with them for the temporary arrangements.

It’s mostly blankets, pillows to account for their wings, and a couple of personal datapads, but the way Starscream squirms and shuffles with narrowed optics as he stares at the box clues Megatron in to the fact that _something_ must be missing.

“Whatever it is, get it quickly.” Starscream opens his mouth to respond, but cuts himself off with an embarrassed huff.

“_Quickly_, Starscream. Your pit-spawned, reckless, wrecking ball of a trinemate is on the lose - and apparently driving Astrotrain insane.” Megatron is not oblivious to the 36 (and increasing) messages coming through on his comm system, a little less time between each one.

Skywarp must be causing _mayhem_.

Resisting the urge to slide his servo down his face, Megatron reluctantly answers the incoming comm call, sounding more weary in this one moment of dread than he has in his entire lifetime of war.

“Astrotrain, report.”

“_YOU PIT-SPAWNED SLAGGIN’ SON OF UNICRON, THE NEXT TIME YOU WARP, I’M GONNA TEAR YOUR INTAKE OUT OF YOUR AFT AND MAKE YOU **EAT** IT!!!_” Ah, dealing with Skywarp is going well, then.

“Astrotrain, _report_.”

“_... I promise you, Sir, that last message was not for you._”

“It had better **not** have been, though from context alone, I can tell it wasn’t.” Keeping a watch on Starscream out the side of his optics, Megatron watches the youngling crawl almost fully under the seeker’s shared berth, until only his wriggling pedes are visible. 

Whatever he’s retrieving is buried deeply under there, safely tucked away where no-one else would ever be able to find it.

“_ \- the gist of it, Sir. If Skywarp isn’t caught in the next 3 breems, the Nemesis won’t survive._”

“Then catch him! Are you really so useless you can’t catch **one** youngling?!”

“_Lord Megatron, with all due respect, **I can’t teleport.** Skywarp can._” Scowling, Megatron finally gives into that urge to run his servo down his face, holding back a growl of frustration.

“Alert everyone else off-duty to keep an optic out. I’ll assign Soundwave’s cassettes the job of locating him otherwise.” Starscream cackles - not unkindly, but certainly not encouragingly. Raising an optic ridge, Megatron gives him a stern look.

“Oh, _please_, if you think anyone else on this ship can catch Skywarp, your processor is more outdated than I originally thought.” 

“Oh? And how would you propose restraining your trinemate, Starscream?” A cocky smirk dawns on Starscream’s faceplates.

“The only way you’ll be able to catch him is to predict where he’ll turn up, which requires someone that’s known for his entire life, and someone who can pinpoint the exact spot he’ll warp into. Luckily, you have both of those.”

“... I almost loathe that the Decepticons are dependant on _you_ for this.” Despite his harsh words, there’s still a smirk on Megatron’s lips, and he pats the top of Starscream’s helm enough to make the seekerling growl, but only in warning.

It’s an… Almost _fatherly_ gesture, one that seems to catch Megatron himself off guard as he withdraws his servo and silently moves to the door.

“Come. Tell me where we catch Skywarp.” Starscream huffs through his vents, grabbing the box Megatron told him to pack for the leader’s quarters.

“First, you’d better list where he’s already been.” It takes Megatron a moment - mostly because Astrotrain’s report is broken with a litany of swearing as Skywarp wreaks destruction around the ship, warping just out of Astrotrain’s grasp each time - but eventually, he informs Starscream that Skywarp’s last known locations were the engine room, the corridor affectionately dubbed ‘the swirly bird’ for its twisted angle, and the command meeting room.

“... If we hurry, we can catch him on the Observatory deck. Tell Soundwave to meet us there with Thundercracker.”

“I thought you said you were capable of catching Skywarp yourself, Starscream. Or were you exaggerating once again?” Starscream hisses. If he hadn’t been carrying his precious box, he probably would have scratched at Megatron’s chassis with sharp, seekerling claws.

“I _am_. But if you want precision and a first-time catch, we need Thundercracker.” Scowling - because since when does he take _orders_ from Starscream? - Megatron presses a digit to his comm unit and hails both Soundwave and Astrotrain to meet him at the observatory.

Once he has their affirmatives, Megatron steers Starscream towards his quarters to drop off the box filled with whatever the youngling has deemed important.

“You still have not explained, _Seekerling_, why we need the youngest of your trine for this overly-simplistic job.” Starscream’s burst of laughter catches Megatron off guard.

“If you think anything about Skywarp is simple, you’re a bigger moron than I took you for!” Megatron raises an optic ridge, recalling all the times Starscream has called his trinemate ‘simple’ to his _face_. Starscream, too, pauses. He scowls, shifting the box in his arms.

“... _I’m_ allowed to say it because I’m far more intelligent and brilliant than any of you.”

“Ah, yes. You, who failed to kill me multiple times over many millennia, are smart.”

“_That was a **glitch**!!!_” Megatron laughs. Not unkindly either, as it would have been years before. At the same time, he keys in his code for his personal quarters, stepping asides so Starscream can deposit the box there.

“You can move your items into the berthroom later. For now, let’s restrain your trinemate.”

“Wait - hold these.” From the box, Starscream pulls out a couple of what is obviously tools, though Megatron has no idea what they are or would be used for. His apparent suspicion has Starscream scoff.

“I can put a temporary dampener on Skywarp’s outlier ability. He won’t to able to warp as far, or as much. In other words, we can keep him in visual range.”

“And you believe that will stop him causing… Mischief?” 

“No.” Starscream grins slyly, looking up at Megatron with an intent gleaming in his optics that could only be described as demonic.

“It’ll make it easier for me to _punish_ him should he try to pull one of his infamous pranks on yours truly.” In true leadership fashion, Megatron decides to deal with that worrying comment later. Right now, there are more pressing matters to attend to.

Skywarp’s manic cackle can be heard echoing through the pipes and vents overhead.

“He’s already in the solvent system pipes. Hurry. We _need_ to be in the Observatory before him.” Tucking the tools into his subspace, Starscream grabs Megatron’s wrist and drags him out of the room, not caring that his sharper-than-usual seekerling talons scratch into Megatron’s paint.

Or maybe he knows and just doesn’t care.

By the time they reach the Observatory, Soundwave and Thundercracker are already there. Neither of them notice as Megatron and Starscream enter, too engaged in the Observatory itself.

Easily the largest room on the entire Nemesis, the Observatory has only one wall. The rest is a huge, curved panel of unbreakable glass - one of the rarest materials on Cybertron. Rounded metal beams form huge concave arches from the back wall to the outermost reaches floor, breaking the otherwise uninterrupted view through the glass.

In the centre of the room, there’s a single elevated stand that contains a projective starmap. It’s broken now, like most things on the ship, but this room is no longer an Observatory for the stars anyway. 

Now, it displays the beauty and wonders of the deep ocean. The Observatory has become a huge aquarium - similar to the walkthrough tunnels humans had in their own aquariums. Light fixtures around the outside of the Nemesis that are powered from a different source to energon peirce into the dark ocean outside, lighting up an inky world that was only _faintly_ touched by sunlight.

Immediately on the outside of the glass, patches of coral have begun to grow on the metal housing of the Nemesis, spreading up along the beams supporting the glass. Megatron regularly uses ‘clearing organic mess from the glass’ as a punishment on reckless, disobedient soldiers, so the glass itself is stunningly clear.

And that gives an unhindered view of the _life_ that fills the area around the fallen Decepticon warship. 

Thundercracker presses right up against the glass, warm vents creating a small foggy patch that vanishes as he vents in. His tiny servos are spread against the cold glass eagerly, as if he could reach through and pluck the ocean creatures from their coral homes.

His optics gleam in mesmerisation at the silver scaled fish swimming past in schools, the bright clownfish and angelfish darting amongst the waving anemones, and colourful swarms feeding around the corals. 

A small gasp escapes him in sheer wonderment as a barracuda snatches a parrotfish straight from a crevice in the rock. It swims on, parting the schools of fish in a panic, though a turtle passes by with no care whatsoever to the hunt.

Starscream rolls his optics at his trinemates enthusiasm, sparkling wings fluttering beneath a thermal blanket with a chirrup, Soundwave kneeling next to him to readjust the blanket every time it slipped down. 

Nevertheless, he strides over to join them. As a scientist, he’s naturally curious. As himself, he’s naturally abrasive.

“You’ll get _cold_ pressing up against the glass like that.”

“Nu-uh. Got blanket.”

“Only on your wings.” Thundercracker shoots Starscream a sharp look, but his attention is quickly stolen away by a shadow passing by the glass, something above blocking out light filtering through the deep water. He gasps, optics practically sparkling as he presses himself flat against the glass.

“‘Wave, what’s that?” Soundwave’s visor resets in the light, following the seekerlet’s awed gaze.

“Marine creature: Manta Ray. Scientific designation: Mobula Alfredi.” 

“It’s _flyin’_...”

“It’s _swimming_, Thundercracker. But yes, it certainly looks like it has wings.” Lecturing without words, Soundwave reaches over and pinches the tip of Starscream’s wing. Not hard, but enough to make a point. 

The moment of peace is broken as the door to the Observatory - Really, they should have renamed it the Aquarium by now - slides open, and a concerningly dishevelled Astrotrain storms in.

“That pit-spawned glitch of a fraggin’ Cessna!!! If I get my servos on his wings-!!!” A strong growl from Megatron cuts Astrotrain off, and he clears his vocaliser awkwardly. He probably should have remembered those active parent protocols.

“Lay a single digit on those younglings and it won’t be _Skywarp_ you have to worry about.”

“Y-Yes, Sir.” For good measure, Megatron holds his silent, vicious glare until the tension could be cut with a laser. On their side of the room, anyways. Whilst Soundwave is fully aware of what’s going on behind them, he’s happily involved in watching over Starscream and Thundercracker.

Since they no longer have connection to the human internet in these younger frames, they can’t simply access information about what they’re seeing. Soundwave dutifully answers all their questions.

Astrotrain fidgets, then clears his vocaliser.

“There’s a lot that needs repairs, Lord Megatron. If Starscream _can’t_ catch Skywarp right this moment, we may need an entire new base.” Frustrated, Megatron drags a servo down his face with a growl that is just barely covering an exhausted sigh.

Younglin- No, _Seekerlings_. Honestly.

“Starscream!” At the sharp call, Starscream rolls his optics, but strides over nonetheless. His arms are crossed and he’s giving them a full blown smirk, smug as ever.

“He’ll be here in approximately 0.2 breems.”

“And _how_ do you deign to catch him?” Pausing to give Megatron a glance like he’s asking if he’s stupid, Starscream draws a circle with his digit.

“We’ll stand in formation around the outer edges of the room, though still within lunging distance of each other. As soon as Skywarp appears, whoever’s closest grabs him by the handle under his wings. It’ll disable his warp ability for 4 astroseconds, which is just enough time for me to add the inhibitor.”

“Oh, yeah? And how’re we gonna know ‘exactly’ when he warps in, genius?” Astrotrain’s confidence fades as Starscream’s smirk stretches into a dangerous grin.

“Oh, you’ll _know_.” It’s enough to send a shudder down Astrotrain’s struts. With a vented sigh, Megatron pulls Starscream back. Even reduced down to a youngling, he and Skywarp are _still_ harassing/picking on/bullying Astrotrain.

(Sometimes, Megatron pities the triple changer.)

“That’s **enough**, you unruly little cretin.”

“I’ll show _you_ unruly, you rusted bag of bolts...” Dismissing the threat as always, Megatron releases the Seekerling from his grasp and stands to full height.

“Soundwave, Thundercracker. We’re ready to begin.”

“Affirmative.” Soundwave takes a step towards the centre of the room, but hesitates when he realises he isn’t being followed. As if he hasn’t heard, Thundercracker is still plastered up against the glass and watching the coral with amazement. Gently, Soundwave reaches out and nudges a tiny shoulder, prompting a small sparkling chirrup as ruby red optics snap up to him.

“Current objective: Restraining your trinemate.”

“M’kay.” He gives on last glance to the ocean world outside, optics following a sea slug for a moment, before he turns and toddles towards the centre of the room. The corners of Megatron’s lipplates twitch upwards and his optics soften. The seekerlet is getting used to his oversized pedes.

“I see your mobility has greatly improved.” A shy nod.

“Mhm. Practice.”

“Very good. Keep at it.” There’s such a deep, genuine warmth in Megatron’s voice that Astrotrain feels a strange pang of solemn nostalgia. He hasn’t heard a tone like that before his Carrier sent him off to military academy with an_ “I’m so proud of you, ‘Train.”_

It’s a testament to how strong those parent protocols are. 

Thundercracker blinks, wide, rounded optics the picture of innocence as he tilts his helm to the side. Then, a sweet smile - (though Astrotrain is _fully_ aware that the seeker trine is anything _**but**_ sweet) - stretches on his faceplates and he salutes.

“Yessir!” All of a sudden, he whips his head to a spot in the room just left of Astrotrain, almost as if something had snapped his attention that way. 

“_There!!!_” It’s only Starscream’s screech that stops him staring at Thundercracker, wondering what the _frag_ is going through the seekerlet’s processor, and also look at the spot slightly to his left.

A bright purple flash.   
A youngling where there had not been one before.  
An _extremely_ guilty ‘uh-oh…’.

“Grab him, you fool!” Snapping into action, Astrotrain lunges for the annoying, chaotic little _fragger_, but Skywarp leaps away with a yelp, artfully dodging the confrontation. He’s had much practice dodging confrontation. 

Grinning deviously, he goes to activate his warp drive once more and escape, only to find that his jump away from Astrotrain has put him within reach of Soundwave. His warp drive is cancelled as a blue servo prods a hidden panel and firmly grasps the secret handle beneath his right wing.

It also, by some good grace of Primus, momentarily stops him moving.

“Aww, no fair!” 

“Capture: Very fair.” Just by Soundwave’s tone - which could only be described as pissed off - Skywarp knows his troublemaking spree is over. He sheepishly grins, and had he not been incapable of movement, would have scrunched his knees up to his cockpit with a shrug.

“I didn’t break _too_ much.”

“Are you kidding? Are you farking kidding me? Are you- _You broke every-fraggin’-thing you touched!!!!_ I chased you for _half a groon_ and you nearly _**destroyed**_ the entire slagging Nemesis!” 

“Shut up for one klik, Astro-pain-in-the-aft! I can’t install the inhibitor with your incessant whining distracting me!” Servos deep in Skywarp’s internals, Starscream scowls as he tries to find the ideal connection wire for the inhibitor, once again cursing Skywarp’s unique system layout.

Even when immobile, he’s a nuisance.

“Inhibitor? Wha-? No! No, ‘Screamer, no! You _can’t_!!! Please don’t take my warp drive away! _Please!! **No!**_” The surge of distress that reels from the youngling almost has Megatron step in and remove Starscream from his trinemate.

But he stops with his servos hovering above Starscream’s shoulders.

This _needs_ to be done.

It’s punishment. Discipline. 

“You may have your outlier back when you have atoned for your destruction.” And that, much to Megatron’s startled horror, is the point that his soldier-turned-youngling bursts into howling sobs and the dreaded tears make their first appearance.

Soundwave shutters his visor. Otherwise, he doesn’t react. He’s raised six cassettes, four of which were prone to tantrums, three of those four who frequently bawled when they were upset, or didn’t get their way.

The only difference here is Skywarp’s genuine sparkbreak. This, to him, must be the ultimate betrayal and worst punishment of all.

“Finished! Now, the inhibitor is set to last for 5 groons with no leeway, and another 19 groons with limited use. From the start of the 6th groon, Skywarp will be able to able to infrequently warp about the length of a room.” Megatron nods in approval.

“Very good, Starscream.” The seekerling puffs his chestplate out in pride. Sparing a glance towards Thundercracker - please to see the sparkling just sitting on the ground, blanket around his wings, staring through the glass above them - Megatron turns to Soundwave and gestures for the now kicking and clawing Skywarp to be passed over to him.

“The damage from Skywarp’s… _Excursion_... Needs to be evaluated. Have Astrotrain show you where it is and contact the Constructicons if necessary.”

“Affirmative.” Hard to hear over Skywarp’s wailing, Soundwave punctuates his agreement with a nod. He makes to pass Skywarp over to Megatron, though the flailing makes it difficult. Narrowly avoiding a pede to the faceplates, Megatron narrows his optics and promptly decides to just wrench Skywarp onto his shoulder by one arm around his waist and hold him in place.

For all Skywarp kicks, punches, cries and curses, he can’t escape. Defeated, he slumps in place and puts all his energy into sobbing loudly. 

Before he exits the room, following Astrotrain who bitterly mutters how they_ “Should just call the Constructies immediately…”_, Soundwave looks back over his shoulder and his optical ridge creases in concern at Skywarp’s slumped sorrow, Starscream looking like he’s about to pry open the starmap because science is all he understands at this point, and Thundercracker staring off into the ocean like he’s having difficulty focusing.

They’re probably struggling very hard to adapt. In one explosion, they went from being fully capable aerial warriors to younglings and a sparkling. Their personalities are still there, but their processors, circuitry, and systems have all been reduced to less than ideal function.

“Seekers: Would benefit from socialisation. Recommendation: Take them to the rec, Lord Megatron.” With that, Soundwave exits. 

Humming under a vent in thought, Megatron lets his gaze wonder from Seekerling to Seekerling to Seekerlet. Skywarp is still screaming into his audial in distress, (He promptly switches off the one closest to him), Starscream has pried a panel off the starmap stand and is diving into the dead wiring, and Thundercracker now lies on the blanket on his back, spread like the starfish he was watching move along the cyberglass ceiling.

“... Attention!” Starscream yelps as he startles at the order, smacking the back of his helm against the top of the opening he’s in. He glowers at Megatron as he abandons his tools and strops right over to stand in front of his leader.

Thundercracker attempts to sit up. His oversized wings prevent him from rolling to either side, or putting his servos on the ground behind him to push himself up. Giving up easily, he simply turns his helm towards Megatron. Rather than full-on glowering like Starscream, he instead has a glint of annoyance in his optics that he’s obviously trying to hide.

Megatron raises an optical ridge at the expressions. Really? They’re going to be difficult _right now_? When their trinemate was already acting up and Megatron was watching over them _alone_?

(He hesitates to admit - even to himself - that this is a slightly overwhelming task. He’s not afraid! Obviously not!)

… (But what if one them got hurt? What if one of them ran away? What if he _couldn’t_ keep them safe? If the Autobots-)

“What!? Did you call me over here for _**nothing**_?! Or are you so old that you’ve already forgotten, oh mighty buckethead?” A low growl escapes Megatron as he looks at Starscream. He only feels a tiny bit guilty when the youngling’s wings flicker like a flinch.

“We’re going to the rec room.”

“No.” Surprisingly, it’s not Starscream who protests. 

“That was not a question. We _are_ going to the rec room.”

“No!” With Starscream scowling at him like he’s about to commit a felony, Skywarp screaming despairingly in his left audial loud enough to be heard even though he’s turned it off, and a growing processor ache, Megatron is **not** in the mood to deal with a difficult sparkling.

“I will carry you by the ankle joints if need be!” Thundercracker gives him a vicious hiss, and that’s when Megatron leans down to do exactly as he threatened. A small servo slaps him away.

“If you _dare_ touch my trinemate, I’ll melt you in the incinerator and sell your molten slag to the Autobots for a _**victory plaque**_!!!” 

“Starscream, you-!”

“You’re oblivious! You’re stupid! You’re _selfish_!” 

“Fine words coming from you!” Starscream’s jaw tightens. His cheekplates begin to flush with colour - with rage - and Megatron knows there’s a massive rant coming. No- More than just a rant. A full on tantrum.

Before the trine leader can launch into whatever insults he’s going to spew this time, Megatron reaches out with his field and tries to soothe him. It’s so _weird_, but by pit if it doesn’t work. Surprisingly well.

“... What- What the frag did you just do? I don’t feel… _Consumed_ by anger anymore…” Confused, Starscream looks at his own servos as if they’ll hold the answer, whilst Megatron is hit with a realisation.

Younglings can’t regulate their own fields. They get _overwhelmed_ incredibly easily. 

“I did what I should have been doing this whole time. Something Soundwave has undoubtedly _been_ doing.” 

“... Field regulation. You’re regulating our fields.”

“You catch on quickly.” For an astrosecond, Starscream is torn between scowling at the revelation, or puffing up in pride at the praise. Instead, he rolls his optics.

“You won’t be able to do that in the rec room, though. Too many intermingling fields. And the backlash from that will be… Severe.” It doesn’t take a genius to figure out it’s not _himself_ Starscream is worried about. So whilst Megatron may not be a genius, he knows.

“If Soundwave recommended it, then it shall be fine.” With one servo, Megatron scoops up a slightly less grumpy Thundercracker - _he’s so small, oh Primus, how is he so **tiny???**_ \- and holds him tight against his chassis, one hand supporting him underneath.

Ignoring Starscream grumbling about_ “hurrdurr, Soundwave said so, neh neh neh, let me just follow him off a bridge, then-”_ and the like, Megatron leads the way to the recreational room. Considering it’s the only place on the Nemesis that’s not falling apart, it’s usually busy with mechs off-shift.

Today is no exception.

Half the Constructicons, all of the Combaticons, the conehead trine, Reflector in his three separate components, and Blitzwing are all present. With so many chaotic fields intermingling in the room, it’s impossible for Megatron to keep using his own on the seekers.

Starscream had warned him the backlash would be severe.

Megatron had underestimated _how_ severe.

The walk from the Obser- _Aquarium_ to the rec room had been miraculous. Starscream had taken to naturally striding at Megatron’s side, instead of trying to push in front of him like usual. Skywarp had calmed down to pathetic little sniffles that were somehow _cute_, (Gross, Megatron had thought, and it would have been true if he didn’t care so much,) and had been let down from Megatron’s shoulder.

He had held onto one of Megatron’s servos, his other wiping away at the remnants of leaked optical fluid. Skywarp was undoubtedly still upset, but had at least stopped bawling. Thundercracker, on the other hand, had perked up from his subdued state. Instead of staring around aimlessly, he was engaging in conversation with his trineleader.

Until… They entered the rec room.

“Lord Megatron!” The conehead trine jump to their pedes - and rightfully so.

“_What_ are you doing in the rec room when you were due on patrol _**three breems ago!?**_”

“We- We had to refuel! Please forgive us, my liege! We’ll be- uh- we’ll leave again now!” The trio scrambles to flee the rec room, but Thrust finds himself tugged backwards as small servos wrap around one of his own, before even smaller arms wrap around his leg. He looks down to see Skywarp putting on that annoying ‘turbopup’ face.

“Take us with you!” Shuttering his optics, Thrust stares at the tiny, oh-so-innocent and tearstained faceplates, before his gaze slowly drifts to Megatron with more than a little hesitation.

“Uhhhhhhh…” By scowl alone, he knows Megatron is going to say no. But before the Decepticon leader can give his order, Starscream intervenes with a sharp bark at Dirge.

“As your Air Commander _and_ SIC, I demand you take Skywarp and I with you!” Megatron reaches out and grabs Starscream’s scruff, tugging him away from Thrust and breaking his intense, challenging glare at the other trines trineleader.

“Absolutely not, you insolent little wretch!”

“Star, me too.” All optics swivel to Thundercracker, even a few of those who weren’t involved in the conversation. He reaches out towards Thrust with two _oh-so-tiny_ servos, his oversized wings fluttering with anticipation and optics wide and begging. Still scowling from chastising Starscream, Megatron (gently) grabs his wrists and tucks the sparkling nearly out of sight in his protective arms.

“_That_ is even more out of the question.” A ferocious growl from within his arms goes unrewarded as Megatron is distracted by an unholy screech from Skywarp - who clings tighter to Thrut’s leg - and Starscream stomping his thruster like a petulant youngling.

Which… Makes sense.

“We’re going!”

“You are _not_.”

“Yes, we are!”

“You are _**not**_.” A nasty grin stretches across Starscream’s faceplates.

“We _are_, and you have no say in this, because _I_ am Air Commander, and _I_ am in charge of fliers.” Megatron doesn’t miss a beat.

“Starscream, you are hereby temporarily stripped of command. Dirge, for the meantime, you will fill the Air Commander role.” Starscream’s mouthplate hangs open wordlessly. Then, he slides the most venomous glare anyone has ever seen towards Dirge. Suitably, fearing what Starscream will do when he’s back in his normal frame, Dirge shuffles away.

“.... Thank you, Lord Megatron?”

“I-... I’m still Winglord, you can’t take _that_ away from me! I command all Seekers!”

“According to Vosnian law, a Winglord must be upgraded enough to be considered a mechling, and even then, they require a full-frame trine as advisors. You’re only a youngling.” That seems to be the breaking point. As true as Megatron’s recital of Vosnian law may be, it’s the metaphorical straw that breaks the metalli-camel’s back.

Starscream is _fuming_. He spins around, grabbing the nearest cube - which happens to be straight from Brawl’s servos - and _launches_ it at Megatron. It hits the warlord directly on the helm, but instead of bouncing off like a sealed cube would, it bursts.

The rec room falls silent.

Energon drips to the floor from Megatron’s helm, shoulders, and a large part of his chassis. His half-covered faceplates are scrunched up with volcanic fury. Slowly, ever so ominously, he turns his helm to look at Starscream, every astrosecond raising the tension even more.

Only Vortex seems to _not_ be frozen in fear, instead leaning forwards in his seat to watch with weighted anticipation. Starscream’s optics flicker to the nearest exit. Megatron _roars_.

“_**STAAAAAARSCREEEEAAAAM!!!!**_”

“We’llBeLeavingNow, Don’tWorry, We’llKeepHimSafe!” Recognising the danger, despite the fact that Megatron would never hurt a youngling, Dirge scoops Starscream up and _runs_ out the rec room. Ramjet just manages to yank Skywarp off Thrust’s leg and toss him asides before they follow.

The freedom of the skies is their best bet for not getting scrapped right now.

Thrown to the floor, discarded by the other trine, and wrenched away from any promise of flight, Skywarp stares helplessly at the closing rec room doors. In any normal situation, he’d just warp to the other side of them and join his trineleader in fleeing whatever trouble they’d just caused.

It was what they did! What they _always_ did! What they had done since long before they were _actually_ younglings! 

But today, Skywarp has been left behind. Left on the floor, without his warp drive. It’s too much.

“I… I wanna… Go too… I wanna go… I wanna go too!!!” He gets up from where he’s been thrown asides only to dramatically plant himself face down on the rec room floor. Not advisable, but he isn’t in the right mindset right now. His sparkbroken wails echo on the cold metal until gentle servos pry him up.

“Come along now, you’ll make yourself sick doing that.” Hook tries to lift the Seekerling up around the waist, but Skywarp, ever difficult, sags limply so that he’s too heavy to be picked up like this. At the moment, it could be likened to trying to pick up Ravage.

Sighing, Hook is about to give up, but whilst he’s giving a rampaging Megatron (those poor rec room tables…) a wary glance, there’s a hefty clunk as someone else plasters themselves to the floor.

“Huh. Comfier than expected. Nice to see our sole trendsetter is once again, breaking the mold.” Fluid filled optics lift from the floor to look Swindle directly in the faceplates. The Combaticon grins, waggling his digits in a mockery of a greeting. Skywarp raises an optical ridge.

“What? Oh, don’t tell me you’re _not_ doing this for fun! Fun is what you do! It’s not quite gambling, trading, or tricking others out of their livelihoods, but eh, you gotta do what makes you happy.” Another glance of ‘what the frag’. Swindle just grins, lying there on the floor like a moron. 

As far as Hook can tell, he’s _intentionally_ acting this way. Could the Combaticons have the same instinctive protection protocols as his own gestalt…?

Onslaught stands nearby, deflecting any furniture that comes their way. Whether he’s protecting the Seekerling or his gestaltmate, Hook doesn’t know. As he’s wondering, someone motions for him to move asides. Blast Off kneels down next to Skywarp in the little space Hook makes for him.

“Hey Swindle, you know what makes _me_ happy?”

“Asides from being an egotistical maniac?” Swindle gets a swift punch to the pauldron. Not enough to hurt, but certainly to chastise. It even draws a snicker out of Skywarp. 

“Better than selling my own gestalt’s parts…” The bitter grumble is only just loud enough to be heard over the crash of-

“Not that, Megatron! We _need_ that!” Hook is drawn away, having to leap to his pedes to attempt to prevent Megatron from ripping one of the door control panels straight out of the wall. Thank goodness he has one servo occupied with a Seekerlet, or nobody would have time to stop him.

Swindle, Blast Off, and Skywarp pause to watch the unfolding chaos as Hook, Bonecrusher, and Scavenger try to pry Megatron away from the important controls. 

And they’d thought _Starscream’s_ tantrum was bad.

“So, what does make you happy?” Swindle rests his chin in one servo, his enquiry taking on a hint of playfulness. Blast Off breaks into a grin, not even bothering to hide the mischief in his field. Too late, Skywarp catches on.

“This~.” Digits are upon him then, mercilessly tickling, and as much as Skywarp tries to squirm away, he can’t. Instead, he can only shriek with laughter.

“Noooooo~! Not there, not there! Stoooop! I’m gonna leak-!” Blast Off draws his servos away, holding them up in mock surrender. Still giggling, Skywarp moves to his own knees, flopping backwards into the shuttle’s lap and reaching up to poke under his chin.

“Jerk~.” Swindle laughs, pushing himself up from the floor. Contrary to what he’d said to draw Skywarp’s attention, it was _not_ comfy or fun down there. 

“Well, I’m off to the wash racks! _Do_ try to live up to your reputation, hmm, Seeker?” Skywarp sticks out his glossa and displays his middle finger in a remarkably human gesture, One Swindle returns with great enthusiasm. He’s one of the only non-seekers absorbed in/obsessed with human culture.

It’s then that Skywarp realises he has someone else's attention. His laughter, his pure glee, and his brightened mood had ultimately distracted Megatron from his own destructive temper. The warlord crouches down in front of him.

“I see you are feeling better now.” Skywarp goes to cheerfully answer with the empty threat of pulling a prank, when his tanks suddenly churn. Uh-oh. Too much excitement. His faceplates wash pale, and Hook only has time to slap a servo across his face in exasperation before Skywarp purges. 

_Projectile_ purges.

All over Megatron. 

“... Uh-ohhh…” His innocent little quip, followed by nervously shrinking back into Blast Off’s lap, does absolutely nothing. Fortunately, it’s also the same moment Soundwave enters the room, likely to give the three Constructicons in here the list of what needs fixing.

Megatron, covered in fresh energon from the chassis up and half-processed energon from the waist _down_, seethes as he turns to his third in command with an expression that reads_ “See what these fraggers have done now?”_

Soundwave makes a little gesture that indicates they should get Skywarp out of there, _fast_. Moving quickly, the Combaticons abandon their table, Blast Off ushering Skywarp to the exit without hesitation. Maybe he could take the youngling for a flight _after_ a wash.

At least having Skywarp enclosed in his shuttle hold was safer than having him fly alongside in root mode.

“Query: Where is Starscream?”

“That disobedient, spoiled, _bratty_ little fragger hijacked the Conehead’s patrol when I specifically said he could not!” Soundwave tilts his helm.

“Flight: Recommended. Seekers: Raised to fly from newsparks.”

“.. They are?”

“Affirmative.” For a moment, there is silence- No, not silence… There’s this low, uneven tone that’s been going on the whole time, sounding muffled yet aggressive. Wait… Aggressive? 

“Uh, Lord Megatron…?” Blitzwing points at the arm Megatron has tucked against his chassis, servo tucked securely around Thundercracker. Moving his arm slightly reveals the blue sparkling.

With sharp seekerlet fangs sunk deeply into the metal of Megatron’s servo. Energon directly from his fuel lines seep out of what appears to be multiple bite wounds. As if he realises he’s now being looked at, Thundercracker’s optics - glinting with fury - snap up to him, and he bites down a little harder with a louder, vicious growl.

His little extendable claws have dug deep scratches into Megatron’s arm plating too. When the warlord doesn’t react, Thundercracker stops biting. 

He hisses directly in his faceplates. 

Then, with an unparalleled anger, chomps right back down on the same spot, as if _daring_ Megatron to do anything.

“Soundwave.” Curiously, Megatron stretches out his arm. Claws scrabble to gain purchase, digging in sharply, but those seekerlet fangs do not remove themselves. Thundercracker dangles from his arm. Huh, strong denta.

With a vent that sounds half like an exasperated sigh and half like a rumbling scowl, Megatron turns to look Soundwave directly in the visor.

“Contact Cybertron. _We need back-up_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ya, this has turned into a 3 part-er. Oops?  
(F in chat for Dadatron and Dadwave's suffering.)


End file.
